


Higanbana

by Akiko_Natsuko, TheHiddenScribe



Series: Genciotober [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Memories, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Secrets, Team as Family, Unrequited Love, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHiddenScribe/pseuds/TheHiddenScribe
Summary: It begins with sideways glances and wistful thoughts, it's stalled by doubts...and it ends in crimson petals.'He was choking, wretching, and just as a shuddering sob tore through him, he felt something…or rather several somethings brush against his tongue, and then he was gagging and spitting, urgently trying to get it out. Something velvety and damp landed in his palm, and then another and another, as another round of coughing wracked him.'





	1. Chapter 1

    Lúcio was curled up in the corner of the couch, scribbling ideas for another song in the battered notepad that he carted everywhere, keeping half-an-ear on the conversation around him and trying not to spend too much time peering across at where Genji was sat bickering with McCree about what film they were going to watch for movie night. It wasn’t working very well, and he was just about to abandon his attempts to work when Hana collapsed onto the couch beside him, immediately leaning into him as she dropped her tablet unceremoniously into his lap.

“Apparently we’re dating again,” she announced, and he groaned even as he reached for the tablet. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, it was just that it was in a strictly platonic sense – she was the best friend he’d never had, understanding both the pressures of fame and trying to balance that with the fact that they were fighting a war. Unfortunately, many of their fans and the press took their closeness and the frequent, friendly hugs and touches to mean something more, and he was more embarrassed than angry as he scanned the article. It was the same rumours and speculations as always, no doubt fanned by the fact that they’d finally had a chance to stream together for the first time in weeks and part way through Hana had decided to just sit on him for the rest of the game. At the time the chat room had gone wild, and apparently, that had spilled over into the media.

“You just like teasing them,” he muttered, her giggle confirming his suspicions, although he knew that she like him, enjoyed the fact that the press could only speculate – Overwatch keeping them out of the public eye, much more than their previous activities had. It was something that he hadn’t realised he’d needed until he had it, and now he found himself fiercely protective of it, to the point where even silly articles felt like a threat. He tried to ignore the small voice, that pointed out that there was another reason in Overwatch that made him want to shy away from that kind of attention.

“I do, and they keep falling for it,” Hana’s grin was pure mischief when he shot her an exasperated glance, and she merely stared back, unrepentant in the face of his ire. “How many times has it been now?”

“Too many…”

“What is this about you two dating?” Lúcio had forgotten that they weren’t alone in the common room, and he froze as the sofa dipped behind him, glancing up to find Genji peering over his shoulder to look at the tablet that he was still clutching.

“I-it’s nothing,” he stammered, fighting the urge to throw the tablet across the room so that Genji couldn’t read the article. “Just the press trying to dig up information on us, and Hana teasing them and me.” _Did that sound casual enough?_ He hoped it did, glancing across at Hana just as she snorted, apparently having missed the way his voice had cracked and threatened to break, and the way his grip had tightened. Behind him Genji chuckled, the sound having a peculiar effect on Lúcio as it eased the tension that he had been starting to buckle under, but also ignited a tickle in the back of his throat – one that had been happening more and more over the last few weeks.

   He wanted to flee as he felt the sensation building, but Hana was still leaning against him, trapping him in place and he knew that if he fled now, people might misunderstand. That Genji might misunderstand… and then it was too late because he tickle became pressure, and then he was coughing and spluttering, dropping the tablet in favour of flinging a hand over his mouth as he doubled over.

_I can’t breathe…_

    Something was swelling in his chest, rising into the back of his throat and nothing he did seemed to be able to clear the obstruction. Somewhere over his head, he could hear Genji’s voice raised in concern and then Hana’s hand was on his back, rubbing his back, even as she tied to answer Genji and frantically ask him what was going on. Lúcio shook his head, unable to get the words out. Unable to do anything but cough and choke, growing dizzier by the second, shadows creeping in on the edge of his vision until he thought that he was going to pass out there and then. 

_I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t…_

    He was clawing at his throat now, desperately trying to get rid of the feeling that something was rising and then there were hands gripping his, stopping him, and he wanted to sob because they didn’t understand that he needed it out. He needed to get rid of it. He… His shoulders shook as he retched violently, and for a moment the world disappeared in a sickening swirl of colours, as white noise filled his ears.

“Lúcio? Lúcio?!” He came back to himself with Hana’s frantic voice in his ear. He blinked, convinced for a moment that there was more than one pair of hands on him, trying to support him as he sank against his best friend, limp and exhausted, although the tickling sensation seemed to have subsided for the time being. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Do you need Angela?” Genji was still there, in fact, he had moved around at some point until he was crouched in front of the couch and Lúcio flinched as he realised that he hadn’t been imaging the feel of hands, realising that the other man was grasping his knees. There was heat building in his face as he forced himself to look away, feeling worse as he realised that everyone in the room was now focused on them and he ducked his head.

“I’m fine.” The lie sounded weak even to his own ears, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at any of them, leaning further against Hana as she continued to rub soothingly at his back. “Just a bad tickle…” That wasn’t a lie, and even now he could feel another one building especially when there was a sigh, and Genji rose, giving him a final pat on the knee before retreating to provide them with space as Lúcio sagged further against his best friend. The logical part of his mind knew that Genji was trying not to crowd them, but the increased distance stung and between one breath and the next, the urge to cough returned and he squeezed his eyes shut.

_Of course, he doesn’t care…_

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” Lúcio whispered after a few minutes, opening his eyes to peer up at Hana who had paused at his words. “Maybe I’m coming down with something,” he offered as an excuse, praying that it would be enough, as he lacked the energy or willpower to come up with a stronger excuse. Thankfully, her eyes softened as she studied him, and absently he wondered what she saw in his face as she pulled back with one last squeeze.

“Okay, but if you’re still like this in the morning, I’m dragging you to see Dr Ziegler.” It wasn’t an empty threat, especially as she hadn’t forgiven him for hiding an injury a few months ago and directing all attention towards her after a bad ejection from her Meka had left her with a badly broken leg. Lúcio had reassured her that he was fine, just to collapse at her bedside a couple of hours later – the lectures from Winston and Angela once he’d regained consciousness had been bad enough, but it had paled in comparison to Hana’s fury, and he’d promised not to do it again.

“Deal…” He muttered, patting her arm before he got to his feet, feeling strangely unsteady as he turned to leave, only to make the mistake of glancing across at where Genji had resumed his former seat next McCree. Genji seemed engaged in the renewed conversation, gesturing animatedly, and seemingly blind to the eyes on him and Lúcio felt his shoulders slumping as he turned away. He carefully avoided looking at Hana as he turned and all but bolted out of the door, unconsciously reaching up and beginning to rub at his chest, as an ache began to blossom with each step that he took and as soon as he passed the door, he fled, overcome with the need to get away.

     Hana’s eyes narrowed as she watched her best friend rubbing at his chest. It wasn’t the first time that she had seen him doing it over the last few weeks, but whereas before she’d thought nothing of it, now it only fanned her concern. _I’m fine,_ she didn’t believe him for a second, but she also knew that Lúcio was fiercely private about that kind of thing, and even if he had agreed to her turning him over to Angela in the morning, she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her chasing after him right now. It didn’t make it any easier for her to remain where she was, and when she glanced down at the tablet she was still holding, she realised that she was trembling – he had scared her.

    In desperate need of a distraction, she found herself looking up. The room was filling up as whoever was on base trickled in for the movie night, and she felt a pang at the thought of her best friend missing it, knowing that he treasured the moments of peace and family that they managed to snatch between missions. If they weren’t needed tomorrow, maybe she could drag him down in the morning for a smaller showing? For now, though, she was relieved to see that the others had all gone back to their conversations and activities, and slowly her attention shifted across to Genji as he cackled at something that his brother said, and her lips quirked. She hadn’t missed the way that Lúcio had faltered before he left, or how he’d glanced across at Genji and despite her worries, she couldn’t help but smile.

    It wasn’t the first time she had seen him glancing at Genji over the last couple of months, he was wonderfully obvious about it, and as she appraised the Ninja, she couldn’t argue with his taste. Although as apparent as Lúcio’s interest had seemed to her, it didn’t appear that Genji had noticed, as he seemed to be unfazed by what had just happened, and her smile twisted into a frown – wondering just how much trouble she would be in if she tried to give him a nudge in the right direction. It was tempting, but she knew that Lúcio wouldn’t appreciate it and she sighed, turning her attention back to the tablet before her gaze flickered back to Genji once more.

_Still, it might be fun…_

*

    Genji finally allowed himself to frown as he glanced across to find Hana fully engrossed in her tablet, playing a game if the focused glint in her eyes was anything to go by. He hadn’t missed the way she had been watching him, the long years spent under the watchful eyes of the Clan Elders had been good for one thing, making it incredibly hard for him to be spied on, and that was before the enhancements that had come with his new body. However, he didn’t know what to make of it – as much as he had made an effort to get to know the younger members of the team, he still felt like there was a disconnect at times, and there had been something probing about her gaze that left him unsettled.

    Maybe, that was because he was unsettled, his fingers flexing as he remembered how Lúcio had trembled in his grasp as he’d coughed and choked. They faced much greater dangers every time they went into the field, he had seen friends and family fall, dragged them to safety not knowing if it was too late – and yet for a fleeting moment, it had felt as though he was drowning. It had been harder than he cared to admit to walk away, to let Lúcio have that space to compose himself, and even now he itched to go after him and haul him off to see Angela… he hadn’t believed the whispered ‘I’m fine’, and when he blinked, all he could see and hear was Lúcio doubled over, fighting to breathe as cough after cough rattled him.

“Genji?” Hanzo’s tone told him that he must’ve been calling him for a little while, and he blinked, willing his expression back into a comfortable, relaxed mask, even as his gaze flickered to the door that Lúcio had disappeared to.

“Sorry, I was distracted…”

****

    Lúcio felt like his body was getting heavier with each step that he took, one hand curled protectively against his chest. The ache had spread with each step he’d taken until it felt like his entire body was throbbing with it, each breath igniting a fresh spark of pain and the tickle was back, crawling up the back of his throat. He’d intended to just go to bed and sleep off whatever the hell this was, but with each struggling breath, came a crawling sensation beneath his skin and he found himself staggering off in the opposite direction, towards the showers – praying that the hot water would help ease some of the discomfort.

    The showers were mercifully empty, and he turned the spray on to heat up, before stripping with trembling hands in front of the mirrors, half-expecting to find a large bruise or some sign of the pain that was still rippling through him with each breath. However, there was nothing – just his chest rising and falling, with only the odd hitch to show that the pain was still there and he sighed, rubbing at where the ache was worse, before turning and retreating into the hot water.

    There was a blissful moment, where all he heard and felt was the warmth pelting against his skin, tilting his face up into the spray and he sighed – maybe he was just coming down with something. After all, they had all been stretched thin lately, and he was still doubling up with his music and tours, and there were some days when he didn’t know when he was coming or going. He had almost convinced himself and was even half contemplating allowing Hana to make good on her threat to drag him to see Angela when the tickling sensation returned with a vengeance, only this time it didn’t remain a tickle.

It started as a cough.

And it didn’t stop…

    The ache blossomed, becoming a lancing pain that spread through his chest and tingled through his limbs, but he was only distantly aware of that, his world narrowing down to the sensation of something swelling and rising in his throat and the realisation that he couldn’t breathe. He alternated between grabbing the wall, trying to find the controls to turn off the water, trying to keep himself upright as his entire body quivered and threatened to collapse beneath him and clawing at his throat. This time there was no one to stop him, and it wasn’t long before he had scratched bloody furrows in his skin, and all the while he coughed and choked, and now he was sure that there was something there, climbing in his throat and in sheer desperation he let himself fall onto hands and knees.

    The world was closing in around him, the pain and inability to breathe overwhelming him and he was sobbing and gasping, tears mingling with the water still pelting him from above. _Help,_ there was no one to hear him, no comforting hand on his back, no worried Genji hovering over him…pain pulsated in the wake of that final thought, and he whimpered as he felt something rising into the back of his mouth, scratching past his throat. For a terrifying moment, it caught, and he fell forward as he clawed at his throat and mouth, frantic now.

_Get it out. Get it out._

    He was choking, wretching, and just as a shuddering sob tore through him, he felt something…or rather several somethings brush against his tongue, and then he was gagging and spitting, urgently trying to get it out. Something velvety and damp landed in his palm, and then another and another, as another round of coughing wracked him.

    Then suddenly he could breathe again, but it brought little relief because his entire body was seizing, pain settling into every inch and he curled in on himself, slowly bringing his trembling hand up so that he could see what he was holding. His vision was blurry, the darkness still pressing close, but there was no mistaking the pale objects lying in his palm. _Petals?_  He blinked, trying to get a clearer view and he realised that he could recognise the smaller ones - remembering walking beside Genji beneath the cherry blossom trees on their last mission in Hanamura. However, in the middle was a larger, creamy white petal that he didn’t recognise, and his fingers curled protectively around it, brushing against it even as his eyes began to droop, no longer able to fight against the pain and exhaustion eating at him.

_What is happening to me…?_

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_What is happening to me…?_

    The pain returned first, a dull ache that seemed to reach into every part of his body, throbbing in sync to the sharper pain in his chest. There was also a chill numbness that had crept into his skin, making him shiver as consciousness came trickling back, and his teeth were beginning to chatter by the time he became aware of the water raining down on him from above. _Am I outside?_ It was cold, stinging as it pelted his aching body, and he stirred, some half-formed thought of getting inside out of the rain forming before his fingers registered the feeling of tiles beneath his trembling fingers. _What?_ He blinked, startled to realise that his eyes had still been shut and after a moment of blurriness the world came into focus around him.

_The showers?_

    It was a couple of minutes later when he’d finally managed to push himself upright, only to fall back against the shower wall as he shivered and shook, biting his bottom lip to hold back a pained whine as it agitated his sore body, that he remembered what had happened. At once his hands flew up, one to press against the sharper ache in his chest, the other more tentatively reaching for his throat as he remembered the overwhelming feeling of needing to ‘ _Get it out! Get it out!’_ he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath searching fingers, and when he pulled them away, they were tacky with blood. For a moment he was distracted by the panicked thought about how he was going to explain this, before he focused once more, swallowing nervously and feeling the rawness in the back of his throat as he glanced around for the petals.

    At some point, he must’ve released them, and the water had carried them away because he found the large, unknown one trapped in the drain and he felt a strange pang of loss at the thought of the others being swept away. As though he had lost something precious, rather than something strange and frightening and he nearly slipped in his hurry to rescue the last one, scooping it up and cradling it, even as his mind frantically tried to come up with an explanation for what had happened. People didn’t just cough up flower petals, and a choked noise that he’d meant to be a laugh but sounded far too close to a sob escaped as he remembered his lie from earlier that evening.

_I’m not fine._

    The admission stung even in the privacy of his own mind, and he hunkered in on himself as though that would let him hide from the words, from what was happening and the pain in his chest. However, the shower was still on, the cold water only adding to his discomfort and finally, he moved, stiffly unfolding himself and staggering to his feet, bracing himself against the wall as his legs trembled and threatened to give way beneath him. _I’m fine. I’m fine._  He was back to lying to himself, closing his eyes as his vision wavered for a moment before he was finally able to reach out and turn off the water, hearing the pipes groaning in relief and wishing that he could join them. However, now that the stinging sensation of the water hitting him was gone, there was nothing to distract him from the other aches, and he couldn’t hold back a soft whine as he leant into the wall.

    He must’ve drifted for a while because when he came back to himself, the shivering had stopped, but the cold had crept deeper, consuming him entirely and he felt sluggish as he pushed himself away from the wall.

Get dry.

Get warm.

     He focused on those thoughts. It was easier than trying to deal with the grey haze, and the thoughts darting through it like quicksilver. It wasn’t easier to carry them out though, each movement sending bolts of pain shooting through his limbs as he made it back to where he had left his clothes and towels, carefully depositing the petal on the bench before he reached for them. The towel felt like fire against his skin, hot embers blazing a path through the cold as he dried himself as quickly as possible, although he found himself having to sit part way through as another tickle grew in the back of his throat. Thankfully it seemed content to remain a tickle, and soon enough he was dry and clothed, beginning to shiver once more as he started to warm up.

    The tickle flared a little when he retrieved the petal, and he froze, waiting for the terrifying sensation of not being able to breathe to return, but while he coughed a couple of times, sparking the ache in his chest, it passed quickly much to his relief.

   He was cautious as he slipped out of the showers. He wasn’t sure what the time was, or how long he had been out, but he didn’t want to run into anyone at the moment as he was sure that he must look like a mess, and any lie would be spotted before he’d even said the words. Thankfully, the corridor was clear, laughter in the distance telling him that the others must still be watching movies and while he felt a pang at missing the fun, he was relieved as he made his way down to his room, slipping inside unnoticed and for the first time since he’d first arrived locking the door behind him.

*

   Now that he was safe from prying eyes he lifted the petal, studying it closer, but he still couldn’t place the flower it came from, and he sighed. Maybe it didn’t matter…or maybe Athena would be able to identify it for him? He hesitated, part of him wanting nothing more than to throw it in the bin and to forget about what had happened, but even as he turned in that direction, he found his fingers tightening protectively and with a muttered curse he found himself moving to his desk instead. He rooted around for a minute until he found an old notepad, filled with scribbled notes and lyrics, carefully sliding the petal beneath the back pages, before hiding the notebook away in the drawer. Safe, but out of sight.

    He could breathe a little easier now, feeling as though a weight had been removed along with the petal, at least until he moved across to the mirror, wincing as he studied the damage he had done to himself. His throat was marred with scratches, although they seemed to of at least stopped bleeding, still, while they didn’t appear to need any treatment, they were going to be hard to explain.

_Unless I don’t…_

    The thought made him falter, and it dawned on him that until that moment he had still been half-entertaining the idea of letting Hana drag him to see Angela, or even seeking her out himself. There was still a part of him that was tempted, the same part of him that had quivered, shaken to the core when he’d first seen the petals, but now it was being overridden by a desire to hide whatever the hell was going on. It wasn’t as though it had happened before, sure he’d had a bit of a tickle in his throat for the last few weeks, but it had been just that a tickle – a sign that the missions and double life as a musician were wearing him down. The lie was there in the tremble of his fingers as he traced the scratches, before yanking his hand away, lifting his head to meet his own gaze – it was there in his eyes too he realised, a glint of fear that hadn’t been there before and he growled under his breath before abruptly turning away.

“I’m fine.” The words sounded even weaker in the quiet of his room, and he felt them chasing him, mocking him as he retreated to bed, burrowing beneath the covers to hide from the words and the chill still following him, pressing a hand against his chest as it twinged painfully.

_I’m fine._

****

     Genji was already in the kitchen the next morning when Lúcio stumbled in, coming up short at the sight of the other man sat on the counter and he seized the opportunity to study the younger man. He looked like he’d barely slept, and he was wrapped up in a baggy hoodie, and Genji’s eyes narrowed as Lúcio almost absently reached up to rub at his chest and throat, and for a moment, all he could think about was Lúcio shaking and shuddering under his touch as he fought to breathe.

“How are you feeling?” It came out more urgently than he’d intended, and for a moment he thought he saw panic flitter across Lúcio’s face, but then he was blinking and grinning sleepily, looking for all the world like someone who had just stumbled out of bed feeling a little under the weather.

“Like I have a cold,” Lúcio grumbled, sounding just as aggrieved as Genji would in his shoes and despite his lingering suspicions, Genji found himself grinning as he watched the medic make a beeline for the coffee pot, only to hesitate as he studied it. “Who made this?” It was a sensible question as they’d all learnt that some people – namely McCree and 76 weren’t to be trusted with making the coffee in the morning, as they tended to create sludge, rather than anything remotely drinkable by ordinary people.

“I did, so it should be safe.” In all honesty, he wasn’t sure, as his sense of taste was a little off to what it had been – although he still couldn’t cope with the stuff that Jesse made on the rare mornings he beat him down here. Lúcio hummed agreement before pouring himself a mug and beginning to gulp it down, wincing slightly as he swallowed, which Genji filed away without a word.

“It’s good,” Lúcio said, glancing up to find him watching, and there was that moment again – as though he was waiting for something to be said and this time Genji took the bait, remembering Hana’s threat from the night before.

“Have you been to see Angela?”

“It’s just a cold,” Lúcio protested a little too strongly, but then he shook his head and added with a trace of his usual cheer. “Even Angela can’t do much about those.” Genji hummed thoughtfully, it was a good argument, especially when they had all been witness to the disaster that was an Angela Ziegler felled by the common cold. She griped about how bad the rest of them were at being patients, but she had been the worse – and the thought of her catching something from Lúcio, left Genji shuddering. “I’ll be fine in a day or two,” Lúcio had apparently caught the shift in his attitude, and Genji sighed. He couldn’t argue, and yet as he studied Lúcio once more, gaze lingering on the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the slump to the usually strong shoulders, he couldn’t entirely quell a whisper of unease in the back of his mind.

“There’s no briefing today, and I’ll tell Winston you’re under the weather if something comes up,” Genji said. They had options at the moment, Angela was here, and Zenyatta was due back later that day so they would have medics they could put in the field if necessary – and he held up a hand as he saw the protest forming. “A couple of days of rest won’t kill you.” _I just hope it actually helps,_ he added privately.

“I…” Lúcio’s protest was lost as he twitched, nearly spilling his coffee as his other hand returned to his chest, and his entire body seemed to tremble as he coughed a couple of times, thankfully nothing like the one from the night before. “Maybe, you’re right,” he managed to say after a minute, breathing still ragged and Genji leant forward, intending to reach out and stop him, the whisper of unease becoming a scream, especially when Lúcio deliberately flinched back out of reach. “If you see Hana, can you tell her I’m going to just hang out in my room today?”

    He wasn’t given a chance to reply, let alone protest, as Lúcio turned and all but bolted from the room, and all thoughts about saying anything caught as just for a second, he caught a glimpse of Lúcio’s throat as the hoodie shifted with his movement. Sharp eyes made sharper still by the work that had been done to his body quickly taking in the damage, and his mouth tightened, the mug he was holding cracking up the side as his grip clenched.

_Lúcio, what the hell is going on with you?_

**

   Lúcio was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to curse as he all but fled the kitchen, feeling Genji’s gaze burning into him. He’d thought that he would be okay, even after a night spent tossing and turning, the ache and tickle never leaving him, and the thought of the petal lying in his drawer haunting him. Even when he had managed to sleep, his dreams had been filled with blood and petals, and a terrible, never-ending feeling of not being able to breathe.

    He’d thought that wrapping himself up and pretending – or at least exaggerating that he had a cold would be enough to divert attention. However, it had almost unravelled the moment he had stepped into the kitchen – and he had nearly turned around and fled there and then, and now he wished that he had, because there had been an edge to Genji’s words and in the narrow eyes that had studied his every movement that told him the other man was suspicious. Then the blasted tickle had returned, catching in his throat, even as his chest had started to throb with each breath – and all his attempts at appearing to be fine had crumbled, and like a coward, he had fled.

    The tickle was still there and growing, licking at the back of his throat like a naked flame, and he could feel the urge, the need to cough returning with a vengeance, and he fought it tooth and nail as he bolted for the relative safety of his room.

    He had barely managed to get inside when he lost the battle, and it was just like before, as he staggered towards the bed as the tickle became a cough. The ache becoming a blaze in his chest, and he couldn’t breathe – his entire body shuddering under the force of it, and he was only distantly aware of dropping his mug, warm coffee splashing against his foot as the world narrowed down to the sensation of barely being able to breathe. Nothing was rising this time, but he couldn’t stop, coughing and spluttering, frantically trying to suck in air in the brief lulls between coughs. At some point he’d fallen onto the bed, his fingers finding purchase in the covers and clinging on for dear life as the world disintegrated into white noise and the burning need for air.

_Please…stop._

****

    Hana scowled at the door, even as she tilted her head, listening for any sign of life in the room beyond. She’d gone down to breakfast to find Genji waiting on her, and while he had dutifully relayed Lúcio’s message, he had been on edge. Curt in a way that he’d never been with her and unable to forget her best friend’s sideways glances and lingering gazes, she’d demanded that he told her what was going on. Privately, she had been hoping that maybe he had noticed something and that she wouldn’t have to give in to the temptation to try and help. It had been a short-lived hope because there had been no grin, no teasing or anything that she had come to associate with him. Instead, he’d looked remarkably like Hanzo as he’d held her gaze with a grim expression.

_“He’s hiding something.” There had been a certainty to his voice and words that she trusted, it was the same tone he used when they were in the field when all traces of the Genji who had ignited a three-month prank war with McCree and crashed their last stream was locked behind the focused, experienced agent. “He tried to play it off as a cold, but I think it’s something more serious.” That she hadn’t been able to argue with, as it had taken her a long time to drop off last night, remembering the sight of her best friend fighting for air, and some of that fear that bled through, adding a sharp edge to her next words._

_“Why didn’t you make him go and see Angela?”_

_“He was clearly trying to hide it,” Genji seemed unfazed by her tone, perhaps catching the silent ‘why didn’t I make him go?’ behind them, hesitating for a moment, before shrugging. “And I’m not as close as the two of you, so he’s not as ready to listen to me.” She’d nearly blurted it out there and then, realising belatedly that maybe he had thought there was more to the article and her teasing than there was – suddenly recalling how flustered Lúcio had become when Genji had joined them, and cursing herself for not realising. However, that thought had been put on hold when Genji had nudged her, to get her attention once more. “Can you please check on him…?”_

_I’m worried._

     She’d caught the unspoken words and hoped that they could come to mean something more in the future, and that was why she was here, knocking on Lúcio’s door while juggling a thermos of hot honey and lemon and a couple of movies they had been waiting to watch. However, she had been here for nearly five minutes now, and there was still no answer, and her concerns and the guilt she felt over her teasing possibly getting in the way, bled into irritation as she rapped the door more sharply this time.

“Lúcio! I know you’re in there.” That much at least was true as she’d checked with Athena before coming, a small part of her hoping that he might have taken himself off to see Angela despite his reluctance to draw attention to himself and his words to Genji, but the AI had insisted that he was still in his room. “Lúcio?!” This time she tried the door, somewhat surprised to find it unlocked even though he had never been one for locking it – especially after witnessing one of her bad nights when the nightmares had hounded her from her bed and left her wandering the base. He’d found her and told her that in future if it happened then his door was always open – it was a promise he had kept. Yet a small part of her had expected to find it locked, especially as he seemed to be ignoring her. However, the door swung open easily, the hallway light filtering into the room beyond.  

     Her attention immediately darted to the mug lying in the middle of the floor, its handle and a large chunk of it lying off to the side, surrounded by a dark patch that suggested it had still been in use when it had fallen. “Lúcio?!” Her entrance hadn’t been quiet, and yet there was no sign he was aware that she was there, and she frowned, turning her gaze to the bed where she could just make out a lump beneath the covers. “Lúcio?”

   Quieter now she deposited the thermos and books by the door, flicking the light on and waiting for a protest, but there was nothing but the slightly strained breathing that she could now hear from the bed and she hesitated, reluctant to disturb him if he was sleeping. However, she couldn’t forget her worry or Genji’s, so on tiptoes, she inched towards the bed, skirting the broken mug. When she reached the bed, she felt all those worries skyrocketing as she listened to the rattling whistle of Lúcio’s breathing, a lump rising in her throat as she reached out to gently tug at the covers that he had hauled up over his head. There was finally an acknowledgement in the form of a mumbled protest as he tried to pull the covers back down, but it was too late, and she felt the colour draining from her face as she caught a glimpse of first his throat, and then his lips and the rest of his face.

“A…” Her voice caught in her throat, and she swallowed thickly.  “Athena, I need Angela here right now.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Lúcio had been dreaming in shades of pink and white, tracing an elusive thread of green through the pastel clouds, but whenever he seemed about to catch it between his fingers it would slip free and vanish from sight, only to dance back into view when he would slump dejected against the velvety surfaces of the dreamworld. Something was tugging at the edge of his thoughts, a counterpoint to the siren song of the green thread, but he paid it no heed, even as the velvet walls began to crumble around him, disintegrating into a snow of sakura petals that bled into red as they hit the floor around his feet._

_Blood was his first thought, but even as he stepped forward the medic in him urging him to help he found himself faltering, hands falling uselessly by his side. His gaze slowly drawn away from the spreading pool of crimson-painted petals as green danced on the periphery of his vision once more, and dream-like he moved towards it._

_There was a discordant note at the edge of his thoughts. A whisper of a voice breaking through the siren song of the green thread and he froze, the world around him shuddering, the pastel clouds giving way to a swirl of bloody petals that rose around him, consuming him and swallowing the green and he shouted out, frantically trying to reach for it._

_No, this is wrong…_

He woke to a world of white.

    He blinked, and then blinked again when the white didn’t disappear, feeling a pang of loss as even now he thought about the alluring green that had been calling to him. However, that was lost to confusion as it dawned on him that he was no longer in his own room, and he frowned, trying to make sense of the white ceiling above him, eyes slowly trailing the grey beams as his vision seemed to come into focus. Unfortunately, with that focus came awareness of the dull ache that permeated every inch of his body, a muffled groan slipping out as he shifted, trying to escape the pain and immediately regretting it as it seemed to ignite a fresh pulse of pain that had him gritting his teeth and throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Lùcio!” There was a flurry of noise and movement, the white broken by a flash of pink and then Hana was there peering down at him with wide eyes. He’d flinched at the volume of her voice, but it was the fear in her eyes that had him recoiling, pushing himself back into the pillows, even as blood-covered petals danced through his memory.

“Wha’ happened?” It hurt to force the words out, as though someone had drawn wire across every inch of his throat and he grimaced, lacking the energy to hide the expression, although he regretted it as the fear in Hana’s eyes seemed to deepen.

“You don’t remember?” He blinked, it had been a while since he had heard her sound that shaken, in fact, the last time he could remember her using that particular tone was when he had hidden his injury, and he frowned. Had they been on another mission? He couldn’t seem to remember one, but why else would he be in the infirmary…

_The ache becoming a blaze in his chest, and he couldn’t breathe – his entire body shuddering under the force of it, and he was only distantly aware of dropping his mug, warm coffee splashing against his foot as the world narrowed down to the sensation of barely being able to breathe. Nothing was rising this time, but he couldn’t stop, coughing and spluttering, frantically trying to suck in air in the brief lulls between coughs. At some point he’d fallen onto the bed, his fingers finding purchase in the covers and clinging on for dear life as the world disintegrated into white noise and the burning need for air._

_Please…stop._

“Lùcio? Lùcio?!” It took him a moment to shake himself out of the memory, startled to find Hana leaning over him, fingers biting into his shoulders as she shook him lightly, staring down at him with frantic eyes. He slowly followed her gaze, realising that he had lifted his hands to curl protectively against his chest, and he blinked, realising that while he could breathe now, the dull ache was radiating from beneath his hands, throbbing in time to each beat of his heart and he swallowed.

“I don’t know…” His thoughts darted to the petal hidden away in his desk, and to the ones that had disappeared down the drain and he looked away, terrified that she would see the lie in his face. He wasn’t even sure why he was hiding it, but the mere thought of voicing what had happened had his throat closing, the tickle creeping in once more, not enough to trigger a cough, but present.

    Still looking down at where his hands lay, he missed the way her expression darkened or the way she swallowed back the words she wanted to say. However, there was no missing her next words, and he forgot about hiding as he looked in alarm as she called across the room.

“Dr Ziegler, he’s awake!”

“Ha…na,” his voice cracked painfully in the middle of his protest, and for a terrifying moment he thought the itch was going to break into something more, his hands falling down to the covers bunched around him and he clutched them as he focused on continuing to breathe normally. He wasn’t sure if it was the itch or the thought of people finding out about this, but he could feel the throbbing in his chest giving way to tightness, and he gasped, reaching out blindly as he remembered the terror of not being able to breathe. It wasn’t Hana’s hand that met his halfway though, and he lurched back in alarm, but Angela refused to let go as she settled on the edge of the bed.

“Easy Lùcio,” she murmured softly, gentle in a way she rarely was when berating them for their antics in the field and he blinked at her, shaking his head as the tightness only seemed to grow.  “It’s okay, you can breathe. Just take it slow, in and out. In and out.” He tried to listen to her, he really did, but the white noise was filling his mind once more, and he found himself shaking his head.

“…Can’t…”

“Yes, you can.” Still gentle even in her rebuke, she reached out and took the hand that wasn’t currently crushing hers in a desperate, bruising grasp and brought it to rest against her chest, letting him feel the steady rise and fall as she exaggerated breathing in and out. “Come on, breathe with me, in and out…”

    It took a few minutes for him to focus enough to try and follow the rhythm, and longer still for his breathing to settle into a steady pattern once more, and there was fresh pain in the form of a piercing headache when he finally sank back against the pillows, slowly releasing his grip on her hand. She let him go, and he must’ve made some noise of protest because the bed dipped on the other side, and he let his head loll over, blinking as he realised that Hana was still there, looking even more worried than she had before. However, her hands were steady as she reached out to grasp his. “Let Angela do her scans.” The shift to the first name caught him off guard, as it was rare that Hana would refer to Angela by anything other than her title, but he lacked the energy to question it, murmuring his agreement even as he heard the beeps that told him Angela was already at work, letting his eyes shut.

    He wasn’t sure if he had managed to nap, or if he had just drifted a little, but it felt like hours had passed before there was a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake and, he grumbled, feeling more exhausted than before.

“Lùcio, wake up for me.” It was Angela, and there was something in her tone that he had to obey and reluctantly he opened his eyes to peer at her, wincing as the light hit, making his headache flare. “Are you in pain?” The stubborn part of him wanted to say ‘no’, especially as he could feel Hana still holding his hand, her worried gaze burning into him, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie about this, nodding slightly. “All right, I will give you something for that once we’ve talked.”

“T-talked?”

“Is it okay for Hana to stay?” Lúcio blinked at the question, not liking it, or the serious tone, and he glanced across at his best friend. She was looking at him as though she was expecting him to disappear at any second, and he wondered just what had happened between him being in his own room and ending up here. There was something about her expression that made him nod, and it must’ve been the right answer because some of the tension in her shoulders eased, although the worry didn’t seem to dim in the slightest and he frowned, turning his gaze back to Angela.

“What is going on?” The words hurt, but he didn’t let himself falter over them or look away as he realised that beneath the unusual gentleness, Angela was just as worried as Hana. In answer, she reached out and retrieved a kidney dish that he hadn’t noticed before from the bedside table, hesitating before she held it out to him.

“Why don’t you tell us?”

    Hana’s grip of his hand was bruising now as he leant forward, trying not to notice how much effort it took before he felt his breath catch for a different reason as he realised what they were showing him. Resting against the dull brown of the dish, was a cluster of sakura petals, the delicate pink and white marred with a speckling of crimson, and he recoiled, the hand not held by Hana returning to clutch at his chest. “I-I…” _They know…_ He still didn’t know why, but the thought of anyone else seeing those petals had bile rising, and he hunkered back against the bed, fighting the urge to reach out and snatch the dish out of Angela’s hands.

“Lùcio?”

    They weren’t going to forget about this. He could hear it Hana’s voice and see it in Angela’s gaze, and he ducked his head, fingers biting through the thin material of the hospital gown they’d changed him into at some point to claw at his chest. “I…” He couldn’t lie to them, not now they had the evidence right in front of them, and he couldn’t forget the fear of not being able to breathe. The terror as he’d beheld the petals for the first time and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “It only happened for the first time…yesterday?” He hesitated on the last bit, suddenly realising that he didn’t know how long he had been in the infirmary and from the way Hana’s grip had tightened, he guessed he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“You’ve been here for three days since Hana found you unconscious in your room,” Angela said softly, squeezing his shoulder as his breathing hitched for a moment, panic threatening to ignite the itch once more. “This is the first time you’ve been lucid enough for us to talk to before you would only wake to cough and to bring these up.”

“I…how many?” It wasn’t what he’d intended to say, but the question slipped out, and he had a feeling that it was the wrong thing to have asked as both women tensed, and an awkward silence settled for a moment.

“Too many,” Angela was the one to break the silence as she settled the dish back on the table, and Lúcio found himself following the movement, still feeling the same possessive need to reach for them. “These are just the ones from this morning.” His breath did catch at that – how many more had he coughed up? How many had they thrown away? And for a moment all he could see was the drain in the shower, feeling the same wave of loss as he had back then. Then the tickle was spreading, rising and he must’ve given some sign of what was coming because as the first cough wracked him, there were warm arms around his shoulders supporting him as that cursed dish reappeared.

“No…” He tried to force out, but the protest was lost as he was overcome with a coughing fit and his world once again narrowed to the terrifying sensation of being unable to breathe. He was vaguely aware that Hana and Angela were still there, their voices lost to the white noise filling his mind, and there…beneath the flame of the itch in his sore throat, he could feel something rising, and he gagged. _Not again. Not here._ Desperate he tried to swallow it, beginning to choke as he fought against the coughing, but it was like trying to hold back the tide, and he retched, tasting copper as he felt something warm trickling down his chin.

    A sob wracked him them, his body twisting and shuddering as the new petals fought to get free and desperately he tried to wrench his hands free, needing to get them out, to claw and scratch until they were gone. Angela and Hana clung to him, supporting him, but refusing to let go and eventually, he slumped forward, curling over the dish that Angela was holding in front of him as the first of the petals brushed against his tongue. There were tears on his cheeks now, his chest heaving, as he spat out one petal, and then another, the itch refusing to fade, the coughing stealing away what breath he managed to snatch between gagging and forcing out petals.

    It felt endless, but then he spat out a petal, the metallic taste coating his tongue stronger than ever and suddenly he found himself able to breathe again, slumping between the others, as what little strength he’d had fled him.

    He didn’t fight as they eased him back onto the bed, unable to focus on anything but breathing, each unsteady gulp of air accompanied by a burning sensation in his throat. There was a flash of panic as the dish was laid aside, but there was no question of him reaching for it now, and all he could do was track it with weary eyes, before he was distracted by Angela disappearing for a moment, only to return with a damp cloth that she gently ran over his face and chin. It was only when she pulled it away, now stained with blood that he realised what the warmth trickling down his jaw had been, and beneath the exhaustion, there was a flicker of terror.

“What is going on?” It was Hana that gave voice to the question that he lacked the strength to put into words, and from her tone, he had had the impression that it wasn’t the first time that she had asked it in the last few days. With difficulty he focused on Angela, needing to hear the answer too, even though the only thing he wanted to do right now was sleep and pretend that none of this was happening. She met his gaze, glancing at Hana before slowly settling onto the edge of his bed once more.

“What you have is rare,” she began still gentle, but grim. “In fact, many doctors would argue that it is impossible, or that it doesn’t exist.” There was a flash of anger, one that they knew went far deeper than whatever this was – they all knew the trouble she’d had, the rumours about her work, the people who had twisted her work to their own purposes or had refused to see that her creations could help people. “But yours isn’t the first case that I’ve seen or the first one I’ve had to treat during my time with Overwatch.” Pain replaced the anger now, grief and guilt playing across her face before she straightened, adopting a more professional mask, although the emotions lingered in her gaze. “It’s called Hanahaki…” They both heard Hana’s sharp intake, and Angela sighed. “I thought you might have heard of it, that was why I wanted to wait until Lúcio was awake to confirm it.”

“What is it?” The voice didn’t sound like his, raw and wrecked after the coughing fit, each word sending pain lancing through his throat.

“It’s…” Hana began before trailing off.

“It’s a disease that causes the sufferer’s lungs to fill with flowers, often undiscovered until they reach the stage you’re at where you’re coughing up the petals.” There was a soft sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob from Hana’s direction, but Lúcio couldn’t bring himself to look away from Angela as her mask crumbled once more, grief old and new written across her face. “After that point, the flowers spread, the roots taking hold until…until the patient is either cured, or the disease kills them.”

“But…” _This can’t be happening,_ the words were there on the tip of his tongue, along with a bubble of laughter that he could feel rising. _This can’t be happening._ He had survived everything the world could throw at him and then some, and now flowers were going to kill him? He gulped back the laughter, feeling the hysterical edge to it and knowing that he couldn’t lose it just yet. “You said…you said it could be cured?” That was right, she had mentioned a cure, although she hadn’t seemed happy when she’d mentioned it and as he watched Angela shared a pained glance with Hana.

“Lùcio,” Hana found her voice, squeezing his hand until he looked at her and his eyes widened as he realised that she had been crying, her eyes raw and red and cheeks still damp, although she was clinging to calmness as she met his gaze. “Hanahaki is caused by one-sided fee…love.” She corrected herself, and Lúcio tensed, before looking away as he remembered the tantalising green thread that had danced just out of reach in his dreams… the tickle that seemed to follow every encounter with a certain teammate these days, and he swallowed thickly, unable to look at either of them, as shame settled over his shoulders.

_I knew it was hopeless…_

“Lúcio this isn’t something that you can just ignore,” Angela murmured. “It’s not just going to go away on its own.”

“But…you said that it could be cured,” his voice rose in desperation, pain twisting his expression into a grimace as he looked to her. “Please…” The reasons for staying silent, for hiding his feelings were still there, nothing had changed, and if anything, they were worse now. How could he tell Genji about any of this? How could he admit that his crush – he refused to acknowledge the small voice that whispered it was far more than that – had got to this point? Or that he could die, just because of how he felt? The urge to break down, whether sobbing or laughing hysterically was rising and he could feel himself teetering on the edge as Angela sighed.

“It’s not that simple. Yes, it can be cured.” She held up a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth, ready to beg if that was what it would take. “But not without cost. If I treated it medically, it would require surgery, and there might be lasting damage and those feelings, the ones that were strong enough to cause this would be gone.”

“…gone?”

“It’s different for each person, some people become indifferent to the person they cared about,” Angela replied. “You would be able to talk to them, work with them…but you wouldn’t care for them. And in some cases, it can affect the memories of the patient, or in the worst cases it can trigger irrational bouts of anger and dislike.” The pain was back, but Lúcio was blind to it as he found himself looking down.

_I can’t do that._

     He hated this, he hated the weakness, the terror of not being able to breathe. He hated that he was trapped, unable to bear the thought of confessing what was happening to the others…to Genji. But to lose this? To lose these feelings, to risk hating Genji? He couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t do it. There had to be another way.

“There is.” For a terrifying moment, he thought that he might have said everything aloud, but there was nothing in her expression to suggest he had said Genji’s name aloud and when she continued, he felt himself relax, at least until he registered what he was saying. “The disease only takes hold for as long as the feelings are one-sided. You could try and speak to them, to whoever, it is that you feel so strongly about and see if there is the possibility they feel the same, and that…”

“I can’t.”

“Lùcio…” Hana protested.

“Are those…are those my only options?” His voice cracked and broke, and yet he felt strangely calm as he met Angela’s gaze. Perhaps he was just numb, or still hoping that this was all an elaborate hoax – yet he had seen the petals, had felt them tearing a path out of him, and even now with each doubt and question, he could feel the tickle threatening to spring to life once more, his chest aching with each breathe. Angela nodded, and just like the calm, the numbness seemed to burst, and his lips twitched before the bubble that had been rising for the past few minutes.

   It started as a giggle, the sound out of place in the silence that had followed his question and he could feel their eyes on him, as one giggle became two, and then he was laughing. A haunting, broken noise that seemed uncommonly loud and he tore his hand free of Hana’s grip as he doubled over, wrapping his arms around himself, as he shook under the force of his laughter. He wasn’t sure when it changed. Which giggle it was that splintered and broke, swelling in his throat until it became a sob that rattled through his chest, igniting the pain that had become a background ache and suddenly the reality of the situation was too much as it crashed in on him, and he was sobbing and howling as everything shattered around him.

   He jolted when warm arms crept around him, struggling against them for a minute, but he lacked the strength or will to fight them, and with a broken noise he crumpled into the embrace. Twisting so that he could bury his face in his best friend’s shoulder, clutching at her as he was swept away in the maelstrom of his own emotions.

_What am I supposed to do now?_


	4. Chapter 4

   Lúcio paused, reaching out to grasp the wall with one hand, while the other reached up to rub his chest. What had started as a dull ache when the disease had first started taking hold, was now the pulsating, prickling of a thousand needles with each breath that he took, and it seemed that each day he woke to find it a little sharper. A little more overwhelming. As though the bloody flower petals that decorated his bed each morning weren’t enough of a reminder of what was wrong with him. He had a box of them now, hidden away beneath his bed, unable to bring himself to throw them away. While the majority of them were sakura petals – and wasn’t that a constant slap in the face, a reminder of why he was like this and what he couldn’t have. There were also more of the large flowers, white chrysanthemums according to Athena, their occurrence increasing with each day that passed, and while he had originally found them beautiful, now they seemed menacing.

Three weeks.

   It had only been three weeks since he had woken in the infirmary and felt everything crumble around him when he’d finally got the answers about what was wrong with him. Answers that he now realised he wished he hadn’t gained, and ever since it had felt like he was drowning. While Angela and Hana were the only ones to know the full details of what was wrong with him, the others knew he was ill. There was no way to keep it hidden with so few of them on the base, especially with several people currently out on missions. Winston knew a little more than the others, just because of necessity, but the rest knew only the bare details – and that he was no longer allowed in the field until the issue was resolved. Angela had issued that order while he had been sleeping off his emotional breakdown, and no amount of arguing or desperate pleas had been able to shift her. So here he was, trapped in the Watchpoint, unable to help the others or distract himself from what was happening as his body fell apart.

   Worse, he knew that he couldn’t blame her. Whether it was because of his decision to stay silent, or if he had been teetering on the edge of this downward spiral anyway, it seemed as though that day had been the tipping point. There was no hiding that something wrong with now, although so far, he had managed to stop anyone but Hana and Angela from seeing the petals, the former helping him to flee whenever a coughing fit erupted around the others. However, nearly everyone had asked how he was doing, watching him from the corners of their eyes as he tried and failed to be his usual cheerful self, unable to hide the physical evidence of his deterioration. Although those glances were easier to bear than Hana’s waiting, watchful gaze the few times he had allowed himself to interact with Genji since that day, their conversation from his second day in the infirmary haunting each interaction.

_“Lùcio?” He couldn’t remember her ever sounding that hesitant, especially around him and it had been enough to draw him out of his thoughts to look at her. She looked nervous but determined as she leant forward to take his hand, rubbing it soothingly, the effect destroyed by her next words. “I think I know who it is.” She held on when he flinched violently, not letting him pull away and meeting his gaze steadily, and he saw the certainty in her gaze and unable to escape he looked away, biting his lip as he did so– knowing that he had just given her the answer. “Lùcio, you need to talk to him.”_

_You need to talk to him._

_As though it was that easy. It was, a small, traitorous part of his mind whispered – he could go and find Genji, tell him that he liked him…and then what? It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered it or spent the hours since Angela had broken the news of what was wrong with him, debating about doing just that. Yet every time he came close to deciding to do it, he would be overwhelmed by doubt. By fear. He had been uncertain of admitting his feelings long before any of this had happened, and now with this disease weighing on him, the ache in his chest a reminder that any moment he could start coughing, those doubts and fears had become a scream in the back of his mind._

_“Lùcio.” He must’ve been caught up in his thoughts for longer than he’d realised because Hana was shaking him, albeit with a gentleness she had never shown before – another sign of how much had changed in so little time. “You can’t just ignore this.” No, he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, and oh how he did want to forget about this – to pretend that it was nothing more than the cold he’d been claiming that it was, but he couldn’t. However, that didn’t mean that he had to drag Genji into this mess and he shook his head, slowly lifting his head to meet her gaze once more, aching for the fear and concern he could see in her eyes._

_“I can’t.” There were too many reasons why many that he knew that she could and would cut through as she opened her mouth to protest. “Please Hana…” He hadn’t meant for it to sound as desperate as it did, and there was an awkward pause as they stared at one another. “Hana, you can’t say anything.”_

_“Why not?!” Hana demanded, trying not to react as he flinched at her tone, knowing that if she did, then she would back down, and that wouldn’t help either of them. “It’s…” Clear that he likes you too, she stopped, the words lying unspoken between them as she finally looked at Lúcio and saw the fear and longing written across his face._

_“You can’t know that…” Lúcio whispered, hearing the words that she hadn’t spoken. He could see the arguments building, and he knew that without a reason, she wasn’t going to listen to him and he looked down, twisting his fingers together as he voiced one of his biggest fears. “And I don’t want it to be because of this.”_

_“Lùcio…” Hana trailed off. She was sure of what she had seen in Genji’s gaze, just as she was sure of how Lúcio felt about the other man, and yet…she also realised that she could understand her best friend’s fear. They were a small group, almost family-like in their closeness and more than once they’d all shown how far they were willing to go for one another – and she could see that spilling into this if…once, people realised what was happening. It wouldn’t change the fact that the feelings had already been there, but there would always be that edge of uncertainty, and she sighed, glancing down at where he was still wringing his hands and reaching out to grasp one. “I won’t say anything, but you need to make a choice. This isn’t something that you can just ignore – you need to talk to Genji or allow Angela to remove it.”_

_She knew the latter would never happen. She had seen it in his face when that option had been explained to him, but she hoped the reminder would give him the courage to reach out and take that chance._

    He was still no closer to reaching a decision. He wasn’t sure whether it helped or not, that Genji had barely been in the Watchpoint for the last couple of weeks, going from one mission to another, with only brief stops in between. _Almost as though he’s avoiding me…_ Lúcio was quick to smother that thought before it could give rise to a coughing fit, although it didn’t stop the sharp pain that lanced across his chest. Still, there were some good points to Genji’s absence. For one it gave Hana less opportunity to chase him about talking to the other man, because while she had kept her promise so far, it was clear that she wasn’t happy, and he had a feeling that if… as he got worse, it was going to be harder and harder to make sure she kept her promise.

   On the other hand, without Genji right there in front of him, there was nothing to push him into a decision, and he was just left alone with his own whirling thoughts and doubts. The fears that woke him multiple times a night, coughing and spluttering with petals on his lips, and worse, he knew that it wasn’t going to go away. That it was only going to get worse with each day that passed, whether he made a decision or not. Hell, it was already getting worse, and he knew that he was running out of time, could feel it in the deepening ache in his chest and in the exhaustion that dogged each day. Time was slipping away from him with each silken petal that landed in his hand, like sand running through an hourglass, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

*

   Rubbing at his chest again, he turned and headed back the way he’d come. He’d been planning on joining the others in the common room for a little while, knowing that Hana wouldn’t pester him while others were in hearing range, and hoping that the company would give him something other than his dilemma and the pain in his chest to focus on. However, now he wanted nothing more than to just hide away from the world for a little while. Maybe, even try and lose himself in his music, blotting out reality for just a little longer. Although if the last few days were any indication, he knew that he would just end up staring at a blank page, his music remaining just out of reach, even when he’d try to channel the storm in his chest into some semblance of a song.

It was yet another thing that this disease was taking from him.

    For a moment anger blazed through him. Fury at the unfairness of it all, at his body for failing him like this, for his heart betraying him…and for a brief, fleeting second, he was even furious at Genji for making him feel like this.  As soon as that thought registered though, he froze, and as quickly as it had come the anger was going, draining away and leaving him feeling empty and exhausted. _This isn’t his fault._ Genji didn’t have a clue about his feelings, or about what was happening to him and even if he did… the itch was back, rising in the back of his throat, and his vision blurred as he choked back a cough. Breaking into a run, he bolted for the safety of his room as he already felt the petals beginning to rise in the back of his throat as he finished the thought he had been trying so desperately to hold back.

_He wouldn’t feel the same way if he knew this was what I had become…_

****

     Genji bit back a yawn as he headed down the corridor, intent of getting to his room and falling asleep before anything else could come between him, his bed, and a full night’s rest. It felt like months since he’d managed to sleep in a proper bed, let alone his own one. The long string of missions leaving him exhausted and strung out, the stress and losses weighing heavily on him, and the deep bruising down the left-hand side of his body from the last one doing little to improve his mood as each breath made his side throb. Thankfully, Winston had taken one look at him when he’d delivered his latest report and promised that he wouldn’t be needed again, at least for a couple of days, just sparing the Scientist from the sharp edge of his tongue. He knew that once he had got some proper sleep and eaten something that didn’t come from a ration pack that he would feel a lot less inclined to murder someone.

     He had just turned the corner to the corridor that led to his quarters when he registered the sound of running footsteps. However, he had no chance to react before someone slammed into him at top speed, and it was only his quick reflexes that kept him on his feet. The other person wasn’t so lucky even though he tried to reach out and catch them, fingers brushing warm skin before they fell out of reach, and he heard a pained noise as they hit the ground with a dull thud. He winced, before pausing as he recognised the voice and regaining his balance he turned, finding Lúcio on the ground, the medic slowly picking himself, looking stunned…and in pain.

 “Are you…?” He trailed off as Lúcio looked up at him, speechless as he got a good look at his face, taking in the state Lúcio was in with widening eyes. _What the hell happened?_  While Lúcio had looked a little rough the last time they’d spoken, he currently looked as though he should be locked up in the infirmary under Angela’s tender mercies. He opened his mouth, intending to say something along those lines when Lúcio beat him to the punch.

“I’m fine.” It hadn’t sounded convincing last time, and now it was a blatant lie as Lúcio refused to look at him, ignoring the hand that Genji had automatically extended to help him up and instead staggering back to his feet and looking as though he was ready to collapse again at any second. “Sorry about that.” The apology was genuine, and for a second Lùcio’s gaze flickered towards him, offering Genji a glimpse of the storm of emotions in his eyes before he looked away again as one hand reached up to rub at his chest, just as he had the first time Genji had seen him doubled over coughing. Without thinking he stepped forward, to help, to stop him, he wasn’t sure, but despite his, unsteadiness Lúcio managed to weave out of reach with a panicked. “I’ll see you later.”

“Lùcio!” It was too late, the medic was already gone, hurrying down the corridor at a pace that was just shy of a jog. As though he couldn’t get away quickly enough. “Lùcio!!” The louder shout earned him a flinch from the fleeing figure, but Lúcio didn’t look back, and after a moment he was out of sight, leaving Genji staring after him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

     He had planned to stop by and visit Lúcio while he was in the infirmary, especially after he had been suckered into almost believing the medic’s lie about it being nothing more than a cold, but he had been called away before he’d a chance to drop in. However, he had been comforted by the knowledge that Angela was on the case, at least until Lena had passed on the news that Lúcio had been grounded from missions from the time being. If he hadn’t been caught up in a time-sensitive mission at the time, he might have given in to the temptation to come back then and there to find out what was really going on. Because as much as he knew Angela hated putting them in the field if they were so much as slightly off their game, it took a lot for her to outright ban someone from missions, especially when they were as stretched as they were at the moment.

    That had been the moment when his concern had started to deepen, to shift to something closer to fear, although he hadn’t allowed himself to consider why. Or to address the tightness in his chest that came from seeing Lúcio in pain.

     However, when he hadn’t heard anything more from Lena or the others, he’d thought that maybe it had just been a precaution or that Lúcio was improving. It had been there in the back of his mind to check on him once he’d rested, and now he wished that he’d gone sooner, eyes narrowing as he tracked the path that Lúcio had taken. Replaying the brief encounter as something niggled at the edge of his thoughts. Lúcio had looked unwell, dark shadows under his eyes indicating that he hadn’t been sleeping well, but it had been more than that like the energy had been drained from him, and his forehead had been furrowed as though he was in pain, beyond what could have come from their collision. And… _there had been blood._  Genji tensed at the realisation. It hadn’t been a lot, which was why it had taken him a while to process it, just a tinge of it on Lùcio’s lips when he’d spoken, and Genji scowled.

_What the hell has happened?_

****

    It was the sound of coughing that caught his attention a few days later as he combed the base yet again for some trace of Lùcio. He had let the medic get away that night, deciding to wait until he was fully rested before confronting him about what was going on, well aware that he was more sharp-tongued than usual when exhausted, to the point where he could put his brother at his most sarcastic to shame. Worried that he would push Lúcio away, especially how he had all but fled after their collision in the hallway. It was a decision that he had come to regret, as he was increasingly certain that Lúciowas avoiding him, as there never seemed to be any trace of him in any of the common areas even when Hana was around. And when he’d gone to try Lùcio’s room his knocking had gone unanswered, even though he had tried at several different times.

    However, what had made it more than a suspicion was when Athena had refused to help him locate Lùcio, citing that it would be an invasion of privacy, even though she had been willing to help when he had constantly been chasing Hanzo down after he had first arrived. And any hope that he might have entertained that Lúcio was avoiding everyone was dashed when he tried talking to Hana, explaining that he hadn’t been able to catch up with the medic…

 _“Hana!”_ _He had just come back from another fruitless search, unsure of whether he was more worried or irritated at this point, stepping into the common room just as Hana was leaving, heading towards the hangar if her grease-stained overall was anything to go by. “Have you seen Lùcio?” For a moment he was convinced that he had said something wrong, although he couldn’t think what, because she just stared at him as though. Then her expression seemed to crumple for a second, and for a wild moment he thought that she was going to cry, but then she straightened and adopted a strained smile, although not before he could see the sheer relief in her eyes although there was no trace of it in her voice as she asked._

_“Not since breakfast, why?”_

_“I…” Genji faltered. After all, while they were teammates and got on well, he wasn’t as close to Lúcio as she was, and certainly not as close as he wanted…where did that thought come from? He swallowed, before continuing, determined to get an answer anyway, even if he didn’t really have the right. “I think he’s avoiding me. We kind of ran into each other the other night, and I just wanted to see if everything was okay, but I haven’t seen him since.” And not for lack of trying, he thought but didn’t add, knowing that his irritation would show in his voice and having a feeling that she would be less inclined to help him if that happened._

_This time there was no mistaking her emotion. She was angry, the glint in her eyes one he had only ever seen on a mission where civilians had been caught in the crossfire, or that time that Lúciohad hidden his injury from them and despite himself, Genji drew back. Not sure who her ire was aimed at, although the question was answered a second later._

_“Damn it Lùcio.” He didn’t understand the next few sentences, but he had been around Jesse enough to be able to recognise cursing when he heard it, and his eyebrows rose, impressed as she continued, not pausing for breath or even repeating herself from what he could make out. Eventually, though she tailed off, looking more tired than angry now as she looked at him. “I’ll talk to him. But, Genji…”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Don’t give up on him.” There was a desperation in those five words that stopped him in his tracks, and under the force of her pleading gaze, he had been unable to do or say anything beyond._

_“I won’t.”_

     Since then, he was no closer to understanding what she had meant with that request, and she hadn’t reappeared since going off to track down Lúcio the previous afternoon. _Don’t give up on him? What does that mean?_

   He had still been mulling it over, as he did the circuit of the hangar, infirmary and common rooms, and it had been as he headed towards the training rooms after the others had turned up empty that he heard it. It was easy enough to recognise the same hacking cough that had worried him before, and he froze, tilting his head towards the sound and tracking it towards one of the side corridors lined with disused rooms that lay in this part of the base. _What the hell is he doing down here?_ There had been no doubt in his mind that this was Lùcio, and likely the same place he had been hiding for the past few days, and rounding a bend he came to an abrupt halt. Immediately spotting the specks of blood on the floor, and a streak of blood on the wall above it, as though someone had clung to it for support with bloody fingers,

“Lùcio!” It came out far louder than he had intended, panic flooding him as he remembered the blood, he had seen on Lùcio’s lips the other night. “Lùcio!” There was no reply, but there was a pause, and then he heard the coughing before. Harsher, and more painful than before and for a moment all he could see was the image of Lúcio doubled over on the sofa unable to catch his breath. “ATHENA! Alert Angela!” He shouted, not waiting for a reply as he darted forward, checking the first room and cursing when it came up empty. However, the second room wasn’t. He paid no heed to the notepad lying beneath his feet, or the signs that Lúcio had been using this room fairly frequently, utterly focused on the figure doubled over in the middle of the room.

“Lùcio!”

He closed the distance between them in three quick steps, dropping down beside Lúcio who didn’t seem to have noticed his arrival, doubled over as his entire body shook under the force of the coughing fit gripping him. “Lùcio…” He bit off his words as he spied the blood on Lùcio’s fingers. _No._ Not thinking he reached blindly for the other man, wanting…needing to help, and he was unsurprised for Lúcio crying out, his voice ridden with pain and then he was crumbling, slumping against Genji even as he continued to shake under the force of the coughs. Genji wrapped an arm around his shoulders, moving to support him and to try and make it easier for him to breathe, frantically trying to dredge up any medical knowledge that would help, his mind a blank as he felt Lúcio shuddering and whimpering against. “Lùcio, what is going on? How do I help?” He hated asking, not even sure if Lúcio could answer at the moment, and it was like his voice had sent an electrical current through Lúcio as the medic jolted, beginning to struggle against his hold.

“N-no…” His voice cracked and broke, hoarse from the coughing as he batted weakly at the arm now supporting him. “No…n-no.” And then he was doubling over again, all thoughts of escape forgotten as this fit was worse than the previous. And then he was twisting, writhing against Genji as he hacked and spluttered, and it was only when he saw how Lùcio’s throat was moving that he realised what was coming. Frantic he spun them around, still supporting Lùcio’s weight as the medic choked, crying out again, a bubble of blood forming at the corner of his mouth before finally he was able to weakly spit something onto the ground beside them. Genji glanced at it, more focused on steadying Lúcio who had fallen limp in his grasp, and he felt the colour drain from his face as he spied the bloody petals that Lúcio had just coughed up.

“Lùcio….”

_Please, not again…_

 


	5. Chapter 5

  _Hanahaki._

    It was a disease that Genji had hoped and prayed that he would never have to witness again, remembering a darkened room, and whispered words as they tried to slip the bloodied petals out unnoticed. It had been Hanzo who had told him, his voice uncertain and breaking in a way that Genji had never heard before or since, who had pulled him aside outside their mother’s room, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, which had been a clue in and of itself as his brother had been pulling away as his training intensified.

_Hanahaki._

 A rare disease caused by one-sided love.  A disease that was destroying their mother from the inside out, and it had been there, in the dimly lit corridor with Hanzo’s arm around his side, and no sign of their father that Genji had first realised that he wanted a different life than the one offered by the clan. A life where his mother wouldn’t be dying because she loved a man no longer able to see beyond the demands of the Shimada Empire, a life where his brother wouldn’t feel a million miles away even when they were stood there, united by the grief to come.

   His mother had known it too, curling fingers against his neck and drawing him into a hug on that last day, barely any strength left in her body, and he had been the one to press close, burying his head in the crook of his neck as he fought back a sob. _Choose the life that you want little Sparrow,_ she had whispered in his ear, her once melodious voice cracked and ruined after months of coughing up petals, but warm and loving, the only voice that had ever truly sounded like that in their family. And then she had been gone, leaving him with whispered words, and a realisation that he would have to find his own place in the world with nothing but that final blessing.

“Lúcio,” his voice cracked and broke, as he gathered the other man in his arms. Lúcio was still conscious, it was there in the way his fingers curled weakly into the material of Genji’s hoodie. But it was clear that he was barely holding on, shaky breaths teasing the side of Genji’s neck and he could feel dampness on his skin, and he didn’t need to look to know that it was blood. _Lúcio’s blood_ , he thought, shivering as something cold and unpleasant pooled in the pit of his stomach. “Athena, where is Angela?!” He barked at the AI, shushing Lúcio who had flinched at the sharp tone, before gritting his teeth as Lúcio coughed wetly, a low whimper slipping out in its wake. He couldn’t fix this, and as much as he just wanted to drag Lúcio to the infirmary, he wasn’t sure how safe it was to move him.

“Dr Ziegler is on her way.”

    Genji fought back a growl at the calm response, knowing that it wasn’t the AI’s fault, but envying her distance and control as he glanced down at Lúcio. “Lúcio?” He murmured, cautiously shifting until he could see his face a little better, and almost wishing that he hadn’t as he took in the bloody trails down Lúcio’s chin and the grimace of pain. “Are you still with me?” He prompted, reaching up as best he could to wipe some of the blood away, ignoring the soft noise of protest, already knowing that these clothes would be ruined and not caring. However, that seemed to have roused Lúcio a little, as he was blinking, looking like someone just emerging from a dream… or rather a nightmare, Genji corrected himself as he glanced at the bloody petals, unable to miss the way Lúcio tracked his gaze and seemed to lose more colour, shrinking in on himself.

“S-sorry…”

“Why are you apologising?” Genji demanded,  and it was a struggle to swallow back the other questions that he wanted to ask. _How long has it been this bad? Who is it that you love so much that this could happen? Why….?_ He couldn’t finish the last part, not sure whether he wanted to know why Lúcio hadn’t reached out to whoever it was, or why it couldn’t have been him, the last twisting it’s way inside as he glanced down at where Lúcio’s grip was faltering. _I…_ No, now was not the time to think about that, he thought, resolutely forming the half-formed thoughts and dreams that he had been harbouring for some time, and focusing on Lúcio, just in time to catch his eyelids fluttering. “H-hey, none of that. You need to wait until Angela can take care of you.”

“She can’t fix this.” He didn’t think he’d ever heard Lúcio so defeated before, and he knew that he never wanted to hear him sound like that again. It was like the sun had been leached out of the world, reminding him of how he’d felt in the early days of his rehabilitation when it had felt like everything in his life that had meant something had been stolen from him, and his grip tightened as he fought to find the words that would reassure Lúcio. It was hard, because he knew how Hanahaki worked and how it could end, just as he knew that the only ways to ‘fix it’ were for the feelings to be reciprocated directly, or for the Hanahaki to be cut away. His mother had refused that option, choosing to keep her love for Sojiro over her own life, and something told Genji that Lúcio would make the same decision, which meant that they needed to find whoever it was and hope that they felt the same. He had just opened his mouth, intending to try and demand answers, not sure that Lúcio would trust him enough to tell him, but needing to try when he heard running footsteps in the corridor before he heard Angela calling for him.

“Genji! Genji?”

“In here!” He called.

“Genji,” Angela appeared in the doorway, her voice already a grim mask, but it seemed to shatter as she took in the scene in front of her. Defeat washing across her expression, and that more than anything told Genji how bad it was, how far along Lúcio must be and that he had refused to let her fix it, and the weight in the pit of his stomach grew heavier. Then she straightened, the defeat, the fear that he had glimpsed for a fleeting second disappearing behind a calm mask as she hurried across and dropped down beside them. “Lúcio?”

    Lúcio stirred at her voice, tilting his head towards her and trying for a smile, but it came out as little more than a bloody grimace before his head fell back against Genji’s shoulder. “Hey…” It was a breath of sound, a weak attempt at normality that fell flat, and yet Genji’s heart went out to him, knowing how hard it was to be brave when it felt like everything was disintegrating around him. And how hard it was not to lash out at others. He had lashed out, all brittle words and sharp eyes, but Lúcio was different, trying to offer reassurances even when they could see him coming apart at the seams. “I-I’m okay.”

“Sure, you are,” Angela retorted with a sigh, but there was none of the bite that Genji expected. “Let me take a look at you, and then we’ll get you up to the infirmary and cleaned up.” Lúcio blinked at her words, glancing down, and seeming to take in the mess for the first time, his expression crumpling as he nodded slightly before his gaze slid to Genji who could see the apology building in his eyes once more.

“It’s fine,” he cut it off at the pass, before obediently loosening his tight, protective hold at Angela’s gesture, allowing her to lean in, and run the hand-held scanner that was usually kept for when she had to meet an incoming team with injuries, across Lúcio. Genji had seen it in action so many times, generally on him, that he had at least a basic understanding of the display, and he knew even before Angela frowned, that the readings weren’t promising.

“A-Angela?”

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard again.” It was the gentle chiding tone that Genji had only heard her use on rare occasions, and it scared him more than her usual sharper tone, and Lúcio apparently felt the same because he frowned but didn’t argue. “All right,” she didn’t seem surprised by the reaction, patting Lúcio’s shoulder before looking up at Genji. “We need to move him up to the infirmary, can you…?”

“I’ve got him,” Genji interrupted before she could finish the question, relieved to have something that he could do, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Lúcio looked as though he was about to protest before abruptly silencing himself. However, it was as though he had suddenly become aware of where he was, and he was stiff, and awkward in Genji’s arms, as he was lifted, and Genji hated the change but didn’t question it. Instead, obediently falling into step behind Angela as she gestured for him to follow, and as she turned away, he caught the way her expression crumpled, and worse than the defeat he had glimpsed earlier was the grief that bled through now, and he swallowed.

_Lúcio_

****

   Hana was sat curled on the couch in the common room, working away at something on her tablet when Genji slipped into the room a little while later, and he immediately made a beeline towards her, barely responding to his brother’s greeting as he passed. “I need to talk to you,” he said as soon as he was within the hearing range, eyes narrowing as she glanced up in alarm, something – he wasn’t sure whether it was guilt or concern flickering across her face before she could hide it. It was enough to make him press on, although he did drop his voice as he added softly.  “I know what is wrong with Lùcio.” There it was again, the same flicker, but also… _hope?_ And he frowned, caught by surprise as she abandoned her tablet and shot to her feet, latching onto his wrist as she pulled him back the way he had come from, all but dragging him out of the room.

“How?!” She demanded as soon as they were down the corridor a short distance, struggling to keep her voice low.

“I found him coughing up petals.” It’s no easier to say it now that he knows Lùcio is under Angela’s expert care, or after he’d quickly changed out of his bloodied clothes before coming down here, and his throat closes.

“Where is he?”

“In the infirmary with Angela,” Genji was quick to reassure her because despite everything else he understands the fear in her voice, and he’s caught by surprise when her relief is short-lived before her eyes narrow, and she glared up at him.

“You just left him there?”

“She chased me out,” Genji retorted defensively, making no effort to hide his dismay. Sure, he had needed to come and find Hana, but he had been willing to wait, reluctant to leave Lùcio’s side until he knew that he was…stable. However, Angela had been having none of it, and while usually, he could have talked his way past that, there had been something in her expression that had stopped him _._ She was scared _,_ he realised now as he thought back to how she had practically torn Lùcio from his grasp the moment they were in the infirmary, and that hardened his resolve.  “Besides I needed to talk to you.”

  _Lùcio hadn’t said a word during the trip to the infirmary, and while he had still been trying to hold himself stiffly away from Genji, it had been a losing fight after another coughing had struck. It had been a long time since Genji had felt terror like that, unable to do anything but hold on, and try to keep Lùcio in a position that would make it easier for him to breathe as the shorter man wheezed, and choked, clawing at Genji’s arms in his desperation. It had ended in bloody petals that a pale-faced Angela had stepped forward to collect, reassuring a suddenly frantic Lùcio that she wouldn’t throw them away, although Genji could tell that she wanted to. Hell, he wanted to, as he curled his fingers up to brush away a stray one that had fallen on to his arm, closing his eyes as he realised how ragged Lùcio’s breathing was, interjected with low, breathless whimpers of pain._

_Lùcio._

    _It had only been when they’d reached the infirmary and Genji had settled Lùcio on the indicated bed, that Lùcio broke his silence and his apparent sudden aversion to Genji’s touch as he had reached out and grabbed his wrist._

_“Hana…” Lùcio had faltered, staring at where his hand and letting it fall away, as he added in a quiet, almost broken voice. “She needs to know what’s going on.” He wouldn’t look at Genji now, instead, twisting his hands nervously in his lap and Genji frowned…Hana? There had been desperation and shame in the request, and his eyes narrowed, mind drifting back to the first time he could clearly remember worrying about Lúcio being unwell_

**_He hadn’t meant to overhear their conversation, but there had always been something about Lúcio’s laughter that had drawn him in, and that sound coupled with the groans that had followed had caught his attention, and he’d drifted closer just in time to hear Hana’s teasing words. Dating. Somehow, that word had stuck with him, needling him, and he hadn’t been able to resist leaning over the back of the sofa._ **

**_“What is this about you two dating?”  Lúcio had evidently forgotten that they weren’t the only ones in the room, because he’d frozen in alarm, before glancing up at him._ **

**_“I-it’s nothing,” Lúcio stammered, and Genji was distracted for a moment just watching him before he realised that the other man was trying to cover the tablet he was holding, although it was too late to stop him glimpsing the article that Hana must’ve been talking about._** “ ** _Just the press trying to dig up information on us, and Hana teasing them and me,” Lúcio added with a touch of desperation in his voice, before he’d glanced at Hana who had snorted._**

**_And then he’d started to cough._ **

_There was a sinking feeling, one that he still didn’t want to consider as he reached out and gripped Lúcio’s shoulder, waiting for him to look up at him, trying not to be hurt by the way the pained gaze slipped past him as he reassured him._

_“I will let her know.”_

“You needed to talk to me?” Hana repeated with a frown. “But…”

 “Hana,” Genji interjected before she had to try and give voice to a lie. “This might not be any of my business but seeing him…seeing Lùcio like that.” There was that note in his voice again, the same one that had confirmed her suspicions that her best friend’s feelings were far from one-sided what felt like a lifetime ago. And there was a storm of emotion in his eyes as he met her gaze, and for a moment she would have sworn that she spied envy amongst it, but then it was gone, his expression turning grim as he added firmly. “You need to talk to him before it’s too late.”

“Wait…” She had opened her mouth to argue, before what he was saying registered and she faltered as she gaped at him.  “I…You what?” Of all the things that she had expected him to say, that was nowhere close, and for a long moment, all she could do was stare at him, not sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry at what a mess this whole situation was. _Lúcio what did you say to him? Or, rather what didn’t you say….?_ She thought, realising that Genji was entirely earnest with what he was saying, and the fleeting glimpse of envy now made a terrible kind of sense, especially as he sighed and stared at her with a fixed expression.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Look, I know how Hanahaki works and what it does, so….”

“It’s not me!” She blurted out, unable to let that idea persist, and this time there was no mistaking the longing in his eyes before it was masked by doubt.

“But…”

“I was the first one to find out about it, and I’ve been helping as much as I can.” _Not enough. Not nearly enough,_ she thought bitterly, itching to go charging up to the infirmary to check on him, but she had to deal with this first, her promise to Lúcio echoing in the back of her mind as she added quietly. “That’s my only involvement in this.”

“But you know who it is?”

“I…”  _I can’t tell you,_ she couldn’t bring herself to say the words even with the promise that she had made to Lùcio hanging over her. She wanted to tell him. Lùcio had done his best to hide how bad he was, even from her, but she wasn’t blind, and she knew that he was teetering on the edge of a precipice that he might not be able to come back from even if he let Angela intervene at this point, which she knew wasn’t going to happen. Still, it was hard to break her word, and all she could do was nod stiffly, hands curling into fists as she glanced down. _Lúcio…_

“Hana, please…” Genji pleaded.  “I don’t want to lose h…anyone else to this disease.” She caught the slip, her heart aching. _Lúcio why can’t you see that he does feel the same? That he felt the same even before all of this came to light?_ There was a flicker of curiosity at who else he had lost, but right now she couldn’t focus on anyone but her best friend, and the fact that Genji’s desperate ‘don’t want’ had sounded a lot like ‘I can’t’, and she sighed her shoulders slumping. _I’m sorry Lúcio, but I’m not going to lose you to this,_ she thought, praying that one day he would be able to forgive her for this, before lifting her head and meeting Genji’s anguished gaze with her own.

“It’s you.”

     This close there was no way for her to miss the complicated play of emotions across his face, but she was still hard-pressed to name them all before he glanced down, shoulders shaking as he mirrored her stance from seconds ago, his hands curled into fists at his side. She waited, hands twisting into the material of her hoodie, suddenly terrified that maybe she had been wrong, that perhaps she had just given him a burden that he couldn’t do anything about, a leaden feeling settling into her chest as she imagined what Lúcio would do if that were the case. His forgiveness wouldn’t matter if that happened, and she flinched when Genji made a strangled noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, and yet nothing like either. Still, it was enough to force her to gather her courage and step forward on suddenly shaky legs, reaching out to brush his arm.

“Genji?”

“It’s me…?”  He asked, lifting his head to glance at her and she nodded, not having anything else to say. “Then why has he been hiding it? Why not reach out? Surely he knows…” There was hurt and longing, and a thousand other things in his voice as he cut himself off, and as she watched he hugged his prosthetic arm against himself, holding it protectively, and she knew where his mind had gone, even before he asked. “Is it because…?”

“No, no that’s not it,” She cut him off, almost frantic to stop that thought from forming. While Genji rarely seemed fazed by his body most of the time, there were still moments when his mask would slip, and she had heard some of the older members talking about what he had been like in the past. “I can’t pretend to know everything that’s going through his head, because as close as we are, he’s tried to hide this from me as much as he can. But I do know that’s not the case.”

“Then…” _Why?_

“He was scared of telling you even before this, although I’m not entirely sure why,” Hana began hesitantly, hearing the unasked question. She might not fully understand or agree with Lúcio’s reasoning, but she knew that she had to try before the situation derailed any further, ignoring the uneasy feeling that she was betraying Lúcio with each word that she said. _If he’s alive, I can live with him not forgiving me,_ she thought resolutely, trying to tell herself it was the truth, but there was a pang at the thought of losing her best friend even in that way that she struggled to bury as she continued. “And, he was terrified that if he told you now that he’s ill, that your answer would be dictated by that.” There had been shame too – she had seen it when Angela was explaining to him about Hanahaki. Embarrassment, and something deeper and darker, that his feelings had caused this mess, but she didn’t say that.

“I…”

“You liked him before, right?” Hana asked, and there it was. The emotion, the feelings that she had been so sure of before written clearly across his face as he nodded jerkily, colour seeping into his cheeks, and the leaden weight in her chest eased. She had been right.

“How did…?”

“I saw it,” Hana smiled at him, shaky with relief and fresh hope. “Lúcio is my best friend, of course, I’m going to notice if someone is interested in him.” They were protective of one another, even though their friendship was relatively new with the advent of the Recall, their experiences and shared interests binding them closer either of them had ever expected. Lúcio was the one to see the nightmares, the days when the littlest thing could seem too loud, too bright, too dangerous, giving her a safe port in the storm. Just as she was the one to see when his grin dimmed when the music was dimmer and sadder than before, his thoughts turned elsewhere, and she was the one to distract him, to ground him in the present with light-hearted distractions. It was why she had waited at the start, before they’d known about the Hanahaki, wanting to be sure of Genji’s feelings and intentions, and of Lúcio’s feelings on the matter before she broached the subject.  Which was why her shoulders slumped as she admitted quietly. “I even told Lúcio when he was first diagnosed, but he didn’t believe me.”

*

    Genji was silent as he digested her words, slowly letting his arms fall back to his side. There was no need to ask her how Lúcio felt about him, not really because it was there in the fact that he was currently laid up in the infirmary with petals blooming in his lungs because he cared too much. The doubts that had surged up, fuelled by the way Lúcio had been tense and awkward in his arms, were still there but muted by Hana’s quick reassurance, and the sincerity in her words. _Lúcio, why didn’t you tell me?_ He thought, torn between hurt and anger because surely Lúcio had known that he would have tried to help, even if….

_“Mother, why won’t you speak to father about this?” Hanzo’s voice was soft, and there was something in it that made Genji hesitate unseen in the doorway. Peering inside, he could see his brother in the chair at their mother’s bedside, her hand cradled between his, and the proud mask that he wore as a shield most days now was gone, leaving a raw, vulnerable expression on his face. Looking at him, Genji felt for the first time since their mother had fallen ill, that they were on the same page, two children terrified of losing their mother._

_“I can’t.”_

_“But…”_

_“Sweetheart,” she murmured, and Genji could see her fingers curling around his brother’s, silencing Hanzo’s protest more effectively than words ever could have. “It’s not that simple.” She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and leaning forward a little further he could see that she was studying Hanzo, searching for something in his expression before she sighed, seeming a little more broken than before as she continued. “I could tell Sojiro what this is, and how I feel, but what would it change? If he doesn’t have those feelings already, then all my words will do is hurt both of us, because he would pretend and I would still be like this, and in the end, it would destroy both of us.”_

    The memory half-forgotten sprang unbidden into his mind, and Genji took a deep shuddering breath. He hadn’t understood at the time, still not knowing what was wrong with his mother when he’d overheard that conversation, and it was only now, that he was starting to realise what she meant. How much would it hurt to tell someone how you felt, and to know that they were only pretending or trying to force it, even if their intentions were pure?

_But I do like him…_

      He could admit that now, at least in the safety of his own mind, and with Hana’s words in his ears. It explained the questions he hadn’t been able to ask earlier when he’d had Lúcio in his arms, and the sinking feeling when he’d promised to go and tell Hana what was happening. _I like him._ He just hadn’t admitted it, and Lúcio….

“I need to go,” he blurted **,** panic seeping in beneath the warmth of that realisation as he remembered how Lúcio had looked and felt in his arms, the blood-stained clothes now tossed into the corner of his quarters to be disposed of, and the fear on Angela’s face. _Lúcio._ He didn’t give Hana a chance to reply, before he turned and bolted down the corridor, his heart hammering in his chest.

_Lúcio, wait for me…_

*

     It seemed to take him twice as long to reach the infirmary this time, even though he was unburdened and running as fast he could, nearly taking down Jesse as he’d torn past him, the worried questions going unheard. There were a thousand thoughts floating around his head, too quick for him to make sense of any of them. All he knew was that he had to get to Lúcio and make him see that it wasn’t one-sided at all. That it had never been one-sided. The words were there on the tip of his tongue, ready to burst out as he finally reached the infirmary doors and flung them open, and there they remained as he skidded to a halt just inside.

And all he saw was red.


	6. Chapter 6

 

_All he knew was that he had to_ _get to Lúcio and make him see that it wasn’t one-sided at all. That it had never been one-sided. The words were there on the tip of his tongue, ready to burst out as he finally reached the infirmary doors and flung them open, and there they remained as he skidded to a halt just inside._

_And all he saw was red._

**

   Lúcio was writhing on the bed, with Angela leaning over him and trying to hold him steady and keep his arms down as he scrabbled desperately at his chest, his throat, and mouth. Clawing at himself with a desperation that terrified Genji almost as much as the noises coming from him, because he was coughing, and retching, awful sounds intercepted by terrified whimpers rising in his throat, and Genji felt a dreadful, echoing pang in his own chest. _Lúcio._ The bedcovers and Angela’s usually pristine coat were dusted with speckles of red, and as Lúcio hacked and coughed, twisting in Angela’s hold, more blood decorated his chin, and Genji took a trembling, hesitant step forward, only to falter as fever-bright eyes met his from across the room, Lúcio’s eyes widening with horror and fear…and shame, and then he was doubling over, making the most awful sound that Genji had ever heard, and Angela was pale as she moved to shift Lúcio into a better position.

    _I’m too late._ The thought had barely started to sink in, locking him in place, when Lúcio made that same noise again, softer this time. Weaker, as though everything was draining out of him, and then there was more red. Only this time there was something more among the red, and despite himself, Genji found himself stumbling forward a few steps, the aching in his own heart intensifying with each unsteady step he took. Lúcio was falling now, limp in Angela’s hold, although he seemed to still be conscious as he weakly batted at her hand as she picked up the flower, holding it gently between two fingers and Genji went cold as he glimpsed it.

    _For a moment he was a child again, peering into his mother’s room and staring at the covered form on the bed, tears damp on his cheek. He was the only one crying. Hanzo was stood beside the bed, blank-faced, although the hands clenched at his side told Genji that wouldn’t last for long, but it was his father’s face that hurt the most. Blank. But not to hide emotion like Hanzo’s, but rather a lack of emotion and Genji wanted to scream and shout at him, to put some kind of expression on that face, but he already knew that it was a waste of time. Instead, he turned away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be miles away from here, only to falter as he caught sight of the flower lying on the floor next to the bed…crimson, surrounded by specks of blood, as though… he swallowed and turned away, a lump rising in his throat, a wail that he couldn’t quite hold back as he broke into a run._

_It had been at the funeral that he had seen those flowers again, the spider lilies a splash of colour against the sea of black and white…and when he looked back on that day, all that he could see was red._

_Higanbana…_

“Lúcio!” Genji shook off his shock, as he heard Lúcio beginning to cough and hack again, another bloom joining the first, and then another, and with terror humming a counterpart to the sound of Lúcio choking he darted forward. “Lúcio I’m here!” 

“Genji,” Angela attempted to stop him, but Genji wasn’t going to be stopped, stepping deftly around her and closing the last of the distance with the bed. Lúcio looked worse up close, and he faltered for a second because there was so much red…

“G-G…” Lúcio couldn’t get the words out, but he didn’t need to. Genji knew what he was trying to say, and what he wasn’t…and gathering his own courage he reached out and took hold of one of Lúcio’s hands, pulling it away from where he had been scrabbling at his throat, and trying not to flinch at the feel of blood on his hand.

“I’m here,” he repeated, before taking a deep breath.  This wasn’t how he had imagined this going down, and for a moment all he could focus on was the ragged sound of Lúcio’s breathing, the weakening coughs, and the hammering of his own heart in his ears. Angela was saying something behind him, but he couldn’t focus on what she was saying, and part of him wished that they could do this in private, but he knew that she wouldn’t leave now.  “Lúcio….”  He whispered, and pain-stricken eyes met his, the fear in them cutting him to the core and he lifted the hand he was clinging to, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, feeling a spark jump to life in his chest. “Lúcio, it…I…” His voice cracked and broke, and Lúcio damn him…Lúcio smiled through the blood and the coughing, and the tears that had started trickling down his cheeks.

“It’s o-okay…” Lúcio whispered, voice breaking on a cough and then trailing off into nothing, letting his head loll to the side as his eyes started to drift shut. “I n-never…” _Expected you to feel the same,_ Genji heard the unspoken words, and he gasped at hearing Hana’s words being echoed, some tiny, desperate part of him having hoped that she had been wrong. Lúcio was fading in front of him, a little more of him slipping away with each ragged breath and forgetting all about Angela and ignoring the blood beneath his trembling fingers he gently tilted Lúcio so that he was facing him once more.

“I do.” His own voice was only marginally louder than Lúcio’s had been, his gaze locked on the sliver of brown that he could see, and he caught the flicker of longing, and the disbelief that promptly smothered it before Lúcio’s eyes slid shut completely. “Lúcio!” He shouted, and without thinking, tears already beginning to fall he lent in and kissed him. There was copper on his tongue, but he didn’t care, hands moving to cusp Lúcio’s cheeks, swallowing each ragged breath and the soft, broken noise of protest that followed. “Lúcio…I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away, putting everything he could into those four simple words, remembering Hana’s plea for him to not give up, and ready to repeat them as many time as it took until Lúcio believed him.

    Lúcio who was still beneath him apart for the ragged rise and fall of his chest tears drying on his cheeks, and what could have been a smile, but looked more like a grimace frozen on bloodied lips. He was trembling as he pulled back, fingers curling against Lúcio’s cheek. “Lúcio? Lúcio?! Angela!” He shouted, twisting to look at her, and this time he didn’t fight when she nudged him aside to get to Lúcio, reaching out numbly to take the flower she held out in passing. _Higanbana,_ he thought, fingers curling gently around the delicate bloom, wanting nothing more than to crush it, but not daring to lay a finger on it as he pleaded silently. _Please, don’t take him…._

“He’s still with us,” Angela reported, but there was a cautious note to her voice. One that Genji had heard far too many times when people had been teetering on the precipice. When he had been on the edge, and he swallowed and glanced down, staring at the flower. He almost missed her next words and wished that he had as he glanced up and found her staring at him. “Genji…it was you?” It wasn’t an accusation exactly, but there was something about it that made Genji’s heart ache anew because if he had only realised, they could have avoided all of this.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I just didn’t know until now…will he be okay?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted reluctantly as she glanced back at Lúcio. “Let’s get him cleaned up, and then I’ll run some more tests. But…” She cut herself off, and Genji had no interest in pressing for her to continue, hearing the doubt and uncertainty in that last word and he glanced between the flower in his hand, the blooms lying trapped in the covers, and then back up at Lúcio.

“Can I…?”

“You can stay,” Angela nodded, expression softening. “Just having you close might help.” He wasn’t sure how much she believed that, but as he wasn’t going to be kicked out, he wasn’t going to complain, and he offered her a weak smile before speaking to Lúcio, hoping that somehow, he would hear him.

“Do you hear that? I’m not going anywhere.”

****

    Genji hadn’t moved from Lúcio’s side, even though the other man had shown no sign of stirring since their desperate, bloody kiss. Not even rousing when between them Genji and Angela had cleaned away the evidence of what had happened, the delicate spider lilies carefully gathered and set on the bedside table after Angela had told him that Lúcio had been keeping all the blooms. That had been hours ago, and apart from a brief visit from Hana which had left her pale-faced and trembling, the only person he had seen was Angela as she ducked in and out running tests and checking on Lúcio, and yet so far, she hadn’t given him any answers.

It made him uneasy.

“Damn it, Lúcio,” he whispered, squeezing the hand he was cradling between is, trying to fight the feeling that Lúcio was a million miles away, rather than in the bed right next to him. “Please, I know…” _I know_ _I was almost too late, I know that I should have said something sooner…we both should…but please, give me the chance to say it again and again,_ he thought, grip almost bruising now as he stared at Lúcio’s face, searching for some sign that he was coming back to him. But there was nothing, just the ragged rise and fall of his chest, and that same sinking feeling that he had been too late.

*

   It was nearly an hour before Angela appeared to check on them again, murmuring a quiet greeting to him before moving to check on Lúcio. He watched her quietly, refusing to loosen his hold on Lúcio’s hand, although he did scoot himself back to give her more room, sharp eyes taking in every movement, every shift in her expression, and coming away with nothing. Eventually, he couldn’t hold it back, leaning forward when he sensed she had reached a pause in the examination.

“Have you found anything?”

“The scans show that the flowering in his lungs has reduced a little, barely enough to show, but it’s there,” Angela replied, turning to look at him.

“So, it’s working? He’s going to be okay?”

“Genji, you have to understand that it might not have been enough,” Angela hesitated for a moment, and as much as Genji wanted her to stop, he nodded for her to continue although his grip on Lúcio’s hand tightened to the point where it had to be bruising once more. “It might have been too late.”

“But…”

“You’ve stopped it from getting worse,” she cut across him, and now he found himself on the receiving end of the same, painfully gentle voice she had used with Lúcio earlier, and it terrified him more than her anger ever could. _Please don’t sound like that. Don’t look at me as though I might still lose him,_ he thought as he looked down, unable to hold her gaze. It wasn’t so easy to escape her words though, as she continued in that same soft tone. “However, you have to understand how ill he is, how close to the edge and…”

“It’ll be enough,” Genji interrupted, unable to let her finish that thought and now he lifted his head to look at Lúcio, tracing the lines of pain, the parted lips beneath the oxygen mask as Lúcio continued to fight for breath.

_It’ll be enough because I don’t know what I’m going to do if it isn’t._

****

   Apparently, Lúcio hadn’t gotten the message, because for the next two days he hovered on the precipice, occasionally slipping closer to the edge, and more than once threatening to topple over it. Leaving Genji feeling ragged and drawn out, and close to his own precipice, the one that screamed at him that maybe, just maybe, he had been too late. The few times Lúcio roused during that time, it was only to cough and retch, more of those bloody spider-lilies rising in his throat, each one dutifully added to the growing bouquet on the bedside table. Each time Genji had been there, repeating his words and reassurances, the echoing ache ever present in his chest, and each time Lúcio would slip back under, leaving him unsure if his words were reaching him.

   Still, Genji didn’t move from his side for more than a few minutes at a time, eating and dozing when he dared at Lúcio’s side, and ignoring Angela’s plea for him to take a proper break. _I’m not giving up on him._ It had become a mantra, one whispered in between quiet reassurances, and rambling one-sided conversations that had reduced his voice to a hoarse husk. He talked about the moments when he had noticed Lúcio before all of this had happened, from the quiet, fleeting moments where Lúcio’s hand would brush his shoulder when healing him in the field, or the time that Lúcio had fallen asleep against him on the flight home. To the more memorable moments, like Hana’s teasing about them dating, to the way, his heart had twisted painfully in his chest when Lúcio had rushed into the line of fire to protect someone else.

    It wasn’t until he voiced them aloud, Lúcio’s hand trapped between his, that he realised just how far he had fallen or how long ago. The realisation twisted bitterly in his chest, guilt and frustration mingled in. A small part of him almost wanted to laugh as he remembered what Hana had said about Lúcio being worried that any feelings would have been influenced by the current situation, his doubt that Genji could feel the same. How wrong he was. _How blind I was._ If…when Lúcio recovered from this, Genji vowed to make sure that they never got close to this situation again. It would be hard, even with Zenyatta’s teachings and his own more peaceful mindset these days, it was hard to approach those kind of feelings, his upbringing, and the doubts that lingered over his cybernetics leaving him uncertain at the best of times.

_But I don’t want to lose him._

*

      When Lúcio finally roused enough to recognise him a few hours later, it didn’t bring the relief or joy that Genji had been hoping for. He had been taking a break from speaking, voice almost in ruins, and his head had been bobbing, exhaustion tugging at him when he had felt fingers curl weakly around his. It had been as electrifying as Lúcio’s speed boost in the heat of battle, and he had bolted upright, weariness forgotten as he realised that the features that had been terrifyingly lax for the last few hours were coming to life once more, a frown breaking through along with a grimace of discomfort.

“Lúcio?” He called, reaching out blindly with one hand to hit the call button, his other hand squeezing Lúcio’s as he leant forward, hope blossoming as Lúcio’s nose wrinkled and he mumbled something under his breath. “Come on, open those eyes for me,” he encouraged, hoping that this might be the turning point, and for a moment as Lúcio stirred, eyes creeping open, although his gaze was unfocused and drifting, he thought that his prayers had finally been answered. The words, the reassurances, that he had repeated every other time Lúcio had stirred were bubbling up, hoping that Lúcio would hear him, and believe him this time. Then Lúcio was looking at him, gaze still hazy, but seeing him for the first time, and he swallowed, words forgotten, as he watched the myriad emotions that flickered across the other’s face. “Lúcio?”

“Hey…” Lúcio rasped, the word almost lost behind the oxygen mask, before his eyes slowly dropped to where Genji was still holding his hand, and there was something unreadable in his expression as he stared at it for a moment, before his gaze drifted back to Genji’s face. “…k-know?” The words were garbled and broken, but there was no missing the fear that coloured them, and Genji fought back a grimace, knowing that it could be misconstrued which would be disastrous at the moment.

“Yeah,” he murmured, grip tightening when he felt Lúcio trying to pull back, refusing to let him go this time. He had let him slip away from him before, but then he’d known that he could go and find him later, now he didn’t have that reassurance, Angela’s warnings ringing in the back of his mind, and he knew that his grip had to be bordering on painful as he met Lúcio’s gaze. “I know, and Lúcio? I’m still here. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Now he could see the doubt and uncertainty that Hana had warned him about, and the protest that was building beneath them and he shook his head, before reaching out and gently laying his hand on Lúcio’s chest. “I’m not here just because of this,” he was trembling a little, knowing what lay beneath his fingertips, especially after he’d caught a glimpse of one of the scans, stomach churning at the reminder of how close it had been. How close he was to still losing Lúcio.

“But…”

“No.” Genji shook his head, voice sharp and full of broken glass as he felt the ragged rise and fall of Lúcio’s chest beneath his fingers, eyes overly bright as he met Lúcio’s gaze for a moment. Searching. There was still a slight haziness to the gaze, pain breaking through everything else, but he was lucid and focused on Genji, and he took a deep breath. _I’m not giving up on you,_ he thought fiercely, sensing that this might be his only chance to prove that, and he closed his eyes, as for a moment all he could see was red again. It was only the feel of fingers curling around his with a purpose this time that brought him back to the present, and he blinked as he lifted his head to stare at Lúcio, wondering what his expression must’ve shown to put that look on the other’s face. “I almost lost you.”

     He wasn’t sure if he had the right to say that, not when this – whatever the hell it was – thing between them was fragile, but he needed to say it. He needed Lúcio to realise that this wasn’t about the flowers blossoming in his lungs, but rather the feelings that had led to them blooming in the first place, and he took a deep breath before trying again. “I almost lost you. I was almost too late saying the words that would have stopped this from happening in the first place.

    There was no protest this time, and Lúcio’s grip on his hand remained, but the doubt was still there, and Genji almost wanted to growl at him. To scream and shout about everything that they had both been too blind to see, or too afraid to acknowledge, but he didn’t, because he knew better than anyone that words could be twisted and misconstrued. Actions meant a lot more and ignoring the sound of the door opening behind them, Angela arriving at a jog he moved, reaching out to gently ease the oxygen mask out of the way. Lúcio’s eyes were huge, watching him and Genji slowed, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted, even as he desperately prayed that he wouldn’t, the precipice looming beneath them now.

“Genji…” It was a plea and permission, and a thousand other things at once and Genji spared a thought as to whether things between them would ever be simple after all of this before he was moving, pressing his lips to Lúcio’s.

    It was everything their first kiss should’ve been. Warm, and tender despite the hesitation on both sides, and this time there was no copper on his tongue, although he could still detect the lingering taste of it as he deepened the kiss. There was a moment of nothingness, fear and doubt holding Lúcio in place, before finally, just as Genji had been about to break away there was a tentative response. Lúcio leaning up to meet him, doubt still written in every movement, but there was also hope and longing, bleeding through his trembling fingers as the hand that wasn’t still trapped between Genji’s moved to grab Genji. Holding on with an almost bruising grip despite his current state, as though Genji was the only thing stopping him from being pulled under. And perhaps he was because when he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Lúcio’s, there was a breathless sob from beneath him.

“Lúcio, I love you,” Genji murmured, more confident this time as he pressed a kiss to Lúcio’s forehead, before moving down to swallow the next sob with another kiss. And this time he was rewarded with the feel of Lúcio’s lips curving up into a soft, uncertain smile, moving to kiss the corner of his mouth, earning a soft noise that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. He was beginning to smile himself, feeling as though they were taking baby steps away from the edge, that Lúcio was starting to hear him when he felt Lúcio tense beneath him. “Lúcio?”

     It started with a low gasping wheeze, but he didn’t need the sudden flood of terror that replaced the smile he had worked so hard to receive, to know that it wasn’t going to stop there. At once he was moving to sit beside Lúcio on the bed, wrapping an arm supportively around him as Lúcio began to cough, and cough and cough. _Why? Why is this happening?_ He wanted to scream, but he fought the words back as Lúcio leant into him, body spasming as the fit intensified and all Genji could do was hold on, supporting him, and letting his fingers rise to rub soothing patterns on the opposite shoulder as he absorbed the worst of the jolts and tremors. At some point he began to speak, mindless reassurances, breathless repetitions of those four little words as Lúcio’s body seemed determined to turn itself inside out, desperate choking noises underlying the deeper, full body coughs and once more Genji found himself experiencing an echoing ache in his own chest.   _Please…_

   There was red again, as Lúcio doubled over hacking and spluttering, and Genji followed, remaining plastered against him, offering what support he could and hating that he couldn’t do more. He saw the blood first; speckles of it decorating the bed covers again, and Lúcio’s lips which were parted as he fought to breathe, and then Lúcio’s throat was moving, his entire body shuddering and practically jack-knifing on itself.  Genji was moving before he had even caught his first glimpse of scarlet petals, reaching out with a shaking hand, as Lúcio retched violently, and then was a moment where their eyes met. Half-truths and secrets stripped bare, doubts quenched but not banished, leaving behind longing and hope…and grief, and then Lúcio was crying out as a single, perfect spider lily fell into Genji’s waiting palm.

    Stillness settled over them then, Lúcio slumping against him as the coughing slowly faded away, leaving him limp and drained watching through half-lidded eyes as Genji’s fingers curled gently, protectively around the flower. Holding them both close for a moment, before he slowly, reluctantly held it out towards Lúcio. “I know you’ve been keeping them.” Lúcio studied it for a moment, his mind sluggish as the exhaustion seeped in, but finally he shook his head, reaching out with trembling fingers and closing Genji’s fingers carefully around the bloom.

“It’s yours.”

 


	7. Epilogue

_In the myths and fairy tales of Hanahaki, it was whispered that if the feelings of the afflicted person were returned, then the flowers would slowly wither away until there was nothing left behind. It wasn’t entirely wrong, but nor was it completely true. The flowers would fade away, leaving behind only those preserved between pages or kept in jars, but the seed would remain. Lingering. Ready to bloom once more if the right conditions arose._

**** ****

     Genji grumbled under his breath as he reached out, searching blindly for the alarm clock, wincing as metal fingers clattered against glass and his eyes opened just as he found the button he was looking for. However, he paid no attention to the cessation of the beeping, his gaze focused on the spider lily that was rotating slowly in the container that Winston had built for them, fingers brushing against the glass more gently this time as he studied the delicate bloom, unable to forget the first time he’d seen it..

_Stillness settled over them then, Lúcio slumping against him as the coughing slowly faded away, leaving him limp and drained watching through half-lidded eyes as Genji’s fingers curled gently, protectively around the flower. Holding them both close for a moment, before he slowly, reluctantly held it out towards Lúcio. “I know you’ve been keeping them.” Lúcio studied it for a moment, his mind sluggish as the exhaustion seeped in, but finally he shook his head, reaching out with trembling fingers and closing Genji’s fingers carefully around the bloom._

_“It’s yours.”_

     It had been months since that fateful day when Lúcio had handed him that flower, having finally heard his words and even started to believe them. It hadn’t been the last flower to fall, much to his dismay, although thankfully it had been the last spider lily, and gradually as days had passed into weeks, and Lúcio had been released from Angela’s care, the other flowers had appeared less and less. It had been nearly two months now since the last petal had appeared, brought up when they had been bickering, Genji trying to get Lúcio to rest as the medic had thrown himself, heart and soul, back into work once he was cleared for active duty again. However, they had bickered plenty of times since then, and the fleeting fear that those petals would continue to haunt them had long since faded, as Lúcio could give as good as he got.

    Still, it was hard to forget that terror. The sinking feeling that he had been too late, or that Lúcio wouldn’t hear his words, and there were moments like this when he felt those feeling surging to the surface even with the warm body curled against his back. A warmth that was beginning to stir, fingers brushing against his hip, Lúcio pressing closer as he hummed a sleepy protest under his breath, before he moved again, this time with a little more purpose as he nuzzled into Genji’s back.

“Genji…?” The sleepy voice brought a smile to his face, and with a last lingering glance at the flower, he rolled over to find Lúcio just rousing, peering at him with one half-opened eye as he smothered a yawn with his pillow. His smile grew as Lúcio’s eye drooped, threatening to fall asleep again, and he was half tempted to let him and to curl up with him. He must’ve let his eyes close, because he jolted when fingers brushed his cheek, before coming to rest on his lips and he blinked, finding that Lúcio had pulled free of the pillow and was looking up at him, sleepy but more focused. “What were you thinking about?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Genji murmured, leaning into the touch before he reached up to grab Lúcio’s had, twinning their fingers together so that he could lean in and steal a quick kiss.  Grinning as Lúcio wrinkled his nose at his morning breath, before pulling back and resting their foreheads together and taking a deep breath. Lúcio is alive. Lúcio is alive and well, and here with me, he reminded himself as he had countless times over the last few months, and he almost wanted to roll over and snap his fingers at the spider lily and at fate.

    Instead, he let Lúcio pull him down into another kiss, this one deeper and more tender, just like that second kiss that they’d shared in the infirmary on that fateful day. However, this time there was no red, or coppery taste on his tongue, just Lúcio leaning into him and a growing, buoyant feeling that it was over.

 That there were no more petals left to fall.

_He was wrong._

****

    _The flowers would bloom, little buds blossoming and petals threatening to rise on the rare occasions where the usual bickering and arguments of a couple became a little bit more. On those days that ended in slammed doors, raised voices and words that cut a little too deep because they knew each other so well. Most times, the petals would never get a chance to fall, never growing beyond a tiny tickle in the back of Lúcio’s throat, curbed by whispered apologies on both sides, and tender kisses._

_But on occasion they would fall, little blemishes of pink and white speckled with red, rising beyond and tickle and falling from parted lips. However, they would never reach full bloom, caught by warm hands, gentle embraces, and chaste lips._

****

    Hana rubbed a hand up and down Lúcio’s back, holding him as he shuddered, wracked by a coughing fit such as they hadn’t seen for years. Her heart twisting as she saw the tears on his cheeks, her grip tightened as he spluttered and retched until a single, creamy blossom landed in his trembling hands before he threw it aside with a broken noise. She shushed him, trying not to let her gaze linger on the flower too long, distracted when Lúcio sniffled, visibly fighting back a sob as he choked out his partner’s name.

“Lúcio…” She trailed off, not sure that she had the words to reassure him this time even if he was more inclined to hear her now, instead rubbing soothing patterns across his back again as he leant into her side and closed his eyes.

“What if…?”

“Don’t even go there,” she cut him off, voice a little sharper than intended, but she knew that neither of them could handle the fallout from that thought being completed. _What if he doesn’t come back?_ The question completed itself in her mind, even as Lúcio’s breathing hitched, and her grip tightened as she held him close. “He will come back.” She didn’t let any of her uncertainty bleed through, wishing that she had the same confidence that she’d had about Genji’s feelings back then, but it seemed to help because Lúcio blinked and looked at her, a glimmer of hope in the teary eyes. She smiled at him, the expression feeling like shattered grass, all sharp edges and danger, but it seemed to be enough as Lúcio nodded and slumped against her.

“He will come back.”

    It lacked the certainty that she would have liked, but it was better than the broken, defeated air that had greeted her when she’d come charging into the room the day before after hearing from Athena that Genji hadn’t been at the extraction point and that all efforts to reach him had gone unanswered. Quietly, she let her head fall to rest against Lúcio’s, as she nodded. _You better come back,_ she thought fiercely at their missing team member, trying to ignore the uneasy voice that was pointing out all the reasons why he might not, hating that the ongoing war was making it harder and harder for her to cling to hope. _Please, they haven’t had enough time,_ she added, glancing across at where the flower had come to rest against the pillows, specks of red decorating it, and she swallowed as she remembered the last time she had seen that sight.

_Hana held her breath as the door to_ _Lúcio’s room swung open, her fingers clutching at her hoodie as she tried to convince herself that everything was going to be okay. It wasn’t the first time she had been to see Lúcio since she had broken her word and told Genji what was going on, but before he’d been in the infirmary, spending a lot of the visits asleep. What little conversation they’d shared had been a little stilted, but enough to tell her if he knew what had happened, or if he was angry with her, and considering that Genji was usually around, she hadn’t tried to push the issue. However, now he was on the mend, finally moving back into his own rooms, and Angela had announced that he could return to light duty in another week or so. Which was why she was here, nervous and fighting the urge to bolt, and blinking as she found Genji stood in the doorway, an all too knowing look on his face that had her colouring and glancing down even as she asked._

_“Is Lúcio awake?”_

_“He is,” Genji nodded, and stepped aside with a small smile. He had made sure to make sure she knew what was happening, and she had been the first person outside of Angela to hear what had happened in the infirmary that day. “I was just going to go and get us some lunch, so you can stop him escaping while I’m gone.” The last was added with a teasing glance towards the bed, and Hana looked up as she heard Lúcio make a soft noise of protest at the implication, and her lips quirked up in a smile, that dimmed a little as their gazes met. Genji’s hand was on her shoulder, ushering her forward, and before she could formulate a reason to escape, he was gone, slipping out the room and closing the door firmly behind him._

_Silence reigned for a full couple of minutes before Lúcio sighed, and hearing movement from the bed she found herself looking up again, not sure when she had glanced away. He looked better than he had the last time she’d seen him, although there was still a grimace as he pushed himself up and leant against the headboard before his expression evened out as he looked at her before patting the side of the bed._

_“Come here.” Numbly she obeyed, managing to reach the side of the bed and hold his gaze before she broke._

_“I’m sorry.” The apology crept out, little more than a whisper although it sounded deafening in her own ears, and she shook her head as she saw_ _Lúcio opening his mouth to speak. “I know that I promised not to say anything, but I had to tell him. He already knew what was wrong, but he thought it was me…and he was hurting, and you… I thought that you were going to die! And I couldn’t let that just happen, not without saying something. So I told him. I broke my promise, and I-I would do it again because you’re alive and….” Her voice cracked and broke, but that wasn’t what silenced her, but rather the warm hand that had reached out to grab her wrist, and the wry twist of his lips when she met his eyes._

_“Hana…” He faltered for a minute, but then he shook his head and pulled. Yanking her down onto the bed next to him, before switching his grip on her wrist for a tight hug, his face buried in her shoulder, and she was startled to realise that she wasn’t the only one trembling. “Thank you.”_

_“Huh…?”_

_“Thank you,”_ _Lúcio’s voice was steadier this time, and he pulled back just enough to look at her. Up this close, it was impossible to miss the lingering exhaustion in his eyes, the speckle of red in the corner of his mouth that indicated he was still coughing up petals, and the shadows that spoke of how bad things had been. But they paled in comparison to the grin that met her incredulous stare, and the sheepish way that he wrinkled his nose. “You were right, and I’m sorry that I asked you for that promise in the first place…”_

_“But…”_

_“We’ve still got a long way to go.” There was a wistful note now, but the grin was undimmed, even as he paused for a moment to rub at his chest. “Perhaps longer than I’d like, but Genji…” He was the one to look away this time, but not before she saw the grin softening to a smile, and for the first time since she’d stepped into the room she smiled properly, and this time she was the one to yank him into a hug._

_“I told you so,” she drawled with a laugh, that was a little shaky, but it startled a laugh out of him too, and as he returned the hug, she took a deep breath as she realised that things were going to be okay._

_“Yes, you did.”_

    It felt almost like a lifetime ago now, and yet sat here with her arm around him and with that fresh bloom on the bed, it also wasn’t long enough. Angela had warned them that under certain circumstances the petals could return, she just wished that they’d never had to experience them, feeling the tremor that worked its way through Lúcio. “He’s coming back,” she repeated more firmly, and desperate to give him something, she forced a laugh, not caring how brittle it sounded as it made Lúcio look up at her. “And I’m always right.”

“Yes, you are…”

**

    It would be two more days before they finally heard that Genji had been found by the search team that had been sent to look for him, a team that Lúcio had been banned from joining after Angela had seen the red on his lips and the blooms that Hana hadn’t really tried to hide. A breathless Lena reporting that Genji was injured but alive, and now safely on the extraction plane with them and heading back to the Watchpoint, an understanding smile on the Brit’s face as she’d promised Lúcio that they’d get his partner home.

    It had been two long days without sleep, and with more flowers joining that first one, and if Hana had thought that the news and Lena’s promise would settle Lúcio’s nerves and allow him to rest, she was sorely mistaken. If anything, the promise of Genji coming hope, and the prospect of seeing him again had ignited with a nervous energy that had left him pacing and unable to settle, still wracked by coughing fits that added more petals to the pile.

      And it was only later that night as they stood inside the hangar watching as Lena taxied the plane into place, Angela already standing by near where it had come to a halt, that Lúcio seemed to take a deep breath for the first time. Leaning into the arm that Hana had slung across his shoulders while guiding him out here to wait, fingers tightening for a moment as he whispered. “I’m glad that you’re always right.” There was a note of teasing in the words, a glimmer of his usual self that brought a smile to her lips even as there was a flurry of activity ahead of them. She didn’t have a chance to reply beyond a brief tightening of her grip before he was pulling away and rushing to meet Genji who was being carefully lowered of the plane, feeling something easing in her chest at the sight.

_So, am I…_

****

    _There were mornings when Lúcio would startle awake, a raw, aching echo of the pain that he’d endured flaring in his chest, even in times of peace and contentment. It was a reminder of how close things had been that day. However, on those mornings, he would role over to curl close to Genji, his partner’s fingers rubbing lightly over his chest, chasing the ache away._

****

    There were flowers on the pillows when Genji woke that morning, and for a moment he had frozen, an old terror flaring to life even as he realised that there was no red speckling the delicate petals.  It was only the fact that Lúcio was still curled up beside him in the bed, that stopped him descending fully into a panic, although there was a tremble to his fingers as he reached out to turn his partner over.

“Lúcio…?” He trailed off, a scowl chasing the panic from his face, as he took in the sheen of sweat across Lúcio’s forehead, and the way Lúcio’s lips were parted, his breathing a little too ragged. His hand was already moving to rest against his partner’s forehead, when Lúcio stirred with a groan, leaning into the touch as his fingers brushed against too hot skin before his eyes opened and he tried for a grin that quickly faded into a grimace. “I thought that you said you were okay,” Genji scolded, remembering the conversation from the night before when he could’ve sworn that Lúcio had swayed a little when standing, only to be reassured that he had just stood up too quickly. It was a little too reminiscent of how things had been back then, and something must’ve shown in his expression because Lúcio sighed.

“I thought I was...I feel lousy now.” It was a peace offering, and also worryingly honest he realised as Lúcio abruptly twisted away from him, reaching up to cover his mouth as he began to cough. Not the terrifying, wracking coughs that Genji remembered, but enough to have him on edge, and when Lúcio finally pulled his hands away to reveal the petals lying stark against his skin, he was quick to make up his mind.

“Okay, we’re going to see Angela,” he muttered, slipping out of bed with a glance of the clock. It was early, but Angela had always been an early riser, and he had already pulled the covers back before his partner had caught up with what he was saying.

“But…”

 “This is not open for negotiation,” Genji cut across the protest, holding out a hand. Part invitation, and part demand and Lúcio hesitated for a moment before sighing and reaching out to take it, and Genji’s scowl deepened as he realised that he was the only reason his partner made it to his feet. Immediately stepping in to wrap an arm around him as Lúcio wavered, and when Lúcio all but slumped against him, he cursed and swept the shorter man up into his arms. Holding him close and trying to ignore the feel of petals against his skin as Lúcio’s hand brushed against his arm, flashing back to another time for a moment. “You’re going to be okay,” he wasn’t sure who he was reassuring as he headed for the door with Lúcio cradled against his chest, but feeling shaky, panted breaths against his neck, he had a feeling that he was the only one aware of what he had said.

_Lúcio…_

*

     It was a chest infection. A simple chest infection easily treated and yet it wasn’t, because, with his defences down, and a fever building, the flowers had started to bloom again. Not enough, to bring back the fears of Lúcio slipping through his fingers, but enough to leave Genji on edge for days. Refusing to leave Lúcio’s side, gently gathering the petals that fell, and holding him close during the coughing fits, and the worst of the fever. Fingers massaging away the ache that he knew would have taken hold in his partner’s chest, a strained smile on his lips whenever Lúcio stirred enough to realise that he was there.                                                                        

   In time it passed, the petals fading by the day, until one day they woke, back in their own room to find no trace of the flowers and a spark back in Lúcio’s eyes. And as he pulled Lúcio close, kissing him fiercely, he realised that he couldn’t lose this.

****

_Genji ran his fingers over the ring Lúcio now wore, smiling when Lúcio snuggled into his side, moving his fingers to curl around Genji’s without stirring in the slightest. He tangled their fingers together, letting his head roll to the side so that he could look at the spider lily still rotating slowly on their bedside table, unable to keep the joy from his expression as he pulled Lúcio closer._

_He’s mine now…_

****

    There were spider lilies in the bouquet, and Lúcio paused for a moment, fingers gently ghosting over the crimson petals that stood out so brightly against the rest. He had encountered more than a few odd glances, and weak attempts to convince him to leave them out of the bouquet, after all, they weren’t a flower that belonged at a wedding, and yet he had insisted. It was a reminder of everything that had been endured to get them to this point – his own hesitation and foolishness nearly robbing them of this before they’d even had it; the petals that lingered even now in his lungs, reappearing at odd moments; the war that still loomed over them. It was a reminder of everything they had defeated to get to this point, and despite the memories, and the aching echo of pain in his lungs, he smiled at the flower before straightening and turning to look at Hana.

    His best friend was the one to support his choice about the flowers, understanding what it meant to him, and her dress had been chosen to match it, the red a perfect counterpart to his suit. Although he doubted that many best-women would have military medals as part of their jewellery, smiling as she absently straightened one of them, before brushing imaginary dirt off the dress.

“Are you ready?” He asked teasingly, knowing that she had almost been more worried about them pulling this off than he or Genji had been. Understandable, as it had been a month of frenzied activity, with only rare moments where even one of them was on the base, let alone all of them, and he had lost count of the number of times she had hacked into the communicators just to ask him questions.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Hana pointed out with a fake pout, and Lúcio chuckled and shook his head, only to pause as he glanced down at the bouquet once more. “Lúcio?” There was a note of concern now, and then she was beside him, hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”

“I am.” _And he was._ This was an outcome that he could never have imagined back when Angela had first announced what was wrong with him, and there were still days when he would wake, the lingering ache in his chest a little more prominent than usual and wonder if all the moments since then had been a dream. But then he would roll over and find Genji beside him, warm and real, and usually snoring loudly even if he would loudly deny any such thing when Lúcio teased it about him later, and so much better than any dream he could have come up with. “It’s just…” He trailed off, not even sure that he had the words to express what he was feeling, unaware of the besotted grin that had crept across his face until Hana laughed.

“It’s Genji.” She finished for him and startled he nodded. It wasn’t enough by far, but it was all he had at the moment, and her laughter softened to a chuckle as she moved to slip her arm through his, tugging him towards the door. “Then let’s go,” she urged, not that he needed much encouragement as he had automatically started to follow her, and at the reminder that Genji was waiting for him, he found himself speeding up, ignoring her gentle teasing and looking forward at the future he could never have imagined.

****  ****

_The myths and fairy tales hadn’t been entirely wrong. The flowers had faded, leaving behind a bloom trapped in life, and seeds of another chance to bloom. However, what they hadn’t spoken about was the love that would endure through the years, through fleeting petals and blooms, arguments and distance, and lives lived to the full… the final flower blooming in silence, between one kiss and the next, its petals carried away on a gentle breath._


End file.
